Juicy
by just jay
Summary: A.U. Fate had brought these four boys together as roommates in this group home for a reason. They were destined to help change each other's lives. Will they pass the tests thrown at them, or will they fail and lose each other in the process? Kogan/Jarlos.
1. Chapter 1

Thought: Have I mentioned I started something new? One that I'm really excited about. Thanks for opening, I hope you enjoy;

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><p><em>You know very well who you are,<br>Don't let them hold you down,  
>Reach for the stars...<em>

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><p>Flashing lights outside the apartment woke up the single mother of four. Her heart dropped in her chest as she had immediate fears of what they could possibly mean.<p>

A hundred scenarios ran through her head as she got out of bed, anticipating a loud knock that would probably wake up the sleeping toddler. She advanced towards the kitchen and flipped the lights on, waiting for the police officer to knock.

She opened the door as quickly as she could, preventing more than one loud bang. She was tired and just wanted to go back to bed. There stood a police officer she'd met ample times before with her sixteen year old son. She'd known many of the officers; Carlos's own father was once an officer till he was shot and in a coma in the hospital for the past seven years. They had been divorced but it still took a toll on the entire family. The woman sighed. "What he do this time, Charlie?"

"Caught him and Dak Zevon throwing rocks at windows to the abandoned asylum on Butcher. Dak had about two grams of marijuana on his person. We had to take him down to the station. We're letting Carlos off with a warning because he was clean. I know it's hard, Sylvia, especially with Carl…" Deep down, they all knew Carlos got off with a warning because the entire police force had known him since he was an infant.

She looked heartbroken for a moment, but she couldn't allow herself to show weakness. She was tired and frustrated and didn't want to deal with the situation right then. "Get inside," she ordered her son, who gladly obeyed. He'd much rather have his mother than Charlie; his least favorite officer on the force. The man was harsh; even the talk over to the apartment made Carlos want to die of pure disappointment. Carlos slipped inside and went to the fridge, looking for leftover dinner that he'd missed out on.

"I'm trying," Sylvia said to the police officer. "He just doesn't listen. I say no, he says yes. I say don't, he just does. You know how he is…I just can't get through to him."

He sighed. "I know. There is an alternative. We've talked about it."

"I know, I know I just…" she couldn't help but look back at him. He was her baby; her first born, her only child for eleven years. She didn't want to give him up.

"Really think about it, Sylvia. Where will he be if he stays on this path?"

She couldn't help but be heartbroken. That was her boy, that was her baby. Her option…may have been her only one. "I just, I can't, I - I …can we talk about this later? When it's not two in the morning?"

The police officer nodded. "Of course," he said. "Try to keep him out of trouble, okay?"

She nodded. "Thank you."

He gave a quick nod before leaving, and she closed the door and turned to him. She wasn't angry, she couldn't be, not when she was thinking about losing him. She stood there pathetically and held her arms out, closing her eyes and waiting for him to embrace her. His warmth soothed her and she instantly wanted to just go lay down; she wanted to hold her baby tight and never let him go. She wanted him to be two years old again, when everything was so much easier. When he just wanted his mommy.

She sniffed once, and let him go. "Go to bed," she said. "Don't forget to turn the lights out before you do," and she headed off to bed herself, where her youngest, her two year old, was asleep, only wanting his mommy. She hoped to God that Leo wouldn't end up like Carlos. And it broke her heart even harder to think that she hadn't raised him to be a role model. She fucked up, and she knew it. She couldn't fix him on her own.

Carlos sat at the table with his leftovers; he just wanted to have a little fun. When Dak said, "let's just hang out. It'll be cool, we won't get in trouble." it was fine. When he met up with Dak, and Dak had seven other people with him who all wanted to go in the abandoned asylum late at night and make a 'movie,' he knew it wasn't going to end well.

They went in the asylum for a few hours; the went down at eight and they locked themselves in. It was kind of cool, in a way, yet extremely creepy. Especially because of the graveyard with hundreds of marked and unmarked tombs and the creepy noises they kept hearing. Carlos was done around eleven; he admitted that he was "shit pissed scared" and that he wanted "to get the fuck out of here, now." Dak agreed; the two boys left the asylum, got high, and somehow started hucking rocks at the windows.

They didn't even realize they were doing it.

They didn't even realize when the police car pulled up beside them. Carlos was lucky it was Charlie, but he was dreading it. He hated disappointing people, he just couldn't help it. Carlos was dependent, you know? He didn't really know what to do with himself, so he followed his friends. Dak was his best friend, so he followed whatever he did. He didn't know what he'd do without Dak.

Charlie was already shaking his head….it sucked. Carlos would never forget that feeling he felt in his stomach. It was disgusting to him. He wanted to change, he really did, but he just…couldn't. it was his way of life, it was all he knew. How the hell could he just stop hanging out with Dak? How could he just stop smoking pot? How could he just change his life? He didn't want to go through that again.

He put his dishes in the fridge and he put the leftovers back in the fridge. He also forgot to turn the lights off when he went to bed.

When he woke up, his four year old brother, Randy, was in his room, on the floor, with a Tonka truck. "…what are you doing?" he asked tiredly.

"Playing Tonka's," he replied.

"Why in here?"

He shrugged. "Cause I love you."

Carlos just put his head back down. "Just keep it quiet, okay?"

"Okay," the little boy replied excitedly. Carlos did love his younger siblings; they were really sweet and caring, just compassionate little beings. Their happiness was highly contagious, their laughter filled the room. Carlos was sometimes easily annoyed by their natural childhood questions, and the fascinating tantrums that come with being a child, he did adore his siblings.

Randy had a twin; Andrew. They were unplanned, but in the same sense, Carlos was unplanned, too…and so was Leo. It was a huge change for Carlos; he'd been eleven when they were born, and he didn't get just one new sibling, he got two. If it wasn't one, it was the other. Randy this, Andrew that. Carlos didn't like that his mom didn't have time to help him do his homework, so he just didn't do it. He didn't like that his mom didn't go to parent meetings anymore, and so he just stopped being good. Then, he met Dak. When he was bad, his mom just said, "Don't do it again," but, he would always do it again, and the same thing would always be said.

She would warn him, and warn him, but she would never have time to punish him because she was so busy with the new twins. It didn't help that she had Leo when they were both going through terrible two's, but by then Carlos was used to it. Well, not only was he used to it, he expected it. It was just the way of life. He was used to it. This was how it was going to be.

He laid in bed for a few minutes before getting up and taking a shower; it was Saturday afternoon and he was going to see if Dak was out of jail. Dak answered the door and let him in, telling him the story, of how Charlie let him out on the circumstances that he knew you, and that if he, as in Dak, promised he would be a better person, the whole "sphiel."

They stayed at Dak's house for a while, just playing video games in his room. They wanted to stay out of trouble, but neither could be cooped up inside for too long. Dak's mom warned them not to leave the backyard, but Carlos kicked the ball too hard and it went over the fence, so they had to get it.

And it took them thirty minutes to find it.

Then Carlos saw a bunny and wanted to chase it, and the next thing they knew, they were about thirty minutes away from Dak's house, in a town where they didn't belong in, with a neon pink ball that belonged to a five year old girl, chasing a bunny. Dak had suddenly paused when he realized what was happening.

"Carlos!" he said. "Stop."

Carlos obeyed immediately and turned to Dak. The car had already pulled out and had guns out. Dak hated this side of town; people did this for fun; they were especially going to do it if they thought something suspicious, which, they probably were. Dak and Carlos had no reason to be where they were; they didn't belong there, so they were going to be taken out.

The guns fired; the boys ducked, hoping they wouldn't get hit. That was all they could do. Carlos felt it surge through his shoulder, but he kind of liked it. It was pressure; it was relieving all of the crap he'd felt lately; his dad, his family, this life… It was like it released it all from inside of him. But that was not the case.

Dak didn't get hit, but he sure hated the fact that Carlos did. He had to call the emergency hotline, and fast. The ambulance arrived quickly, and so did the cop. Dak had to stay and tell what happened as his best friend was being rushed away in an ambulance. He couldn't believe this was happening.

Another person that couldn't believe it was happening was Sylvia Garcia. She cried the entire time she was driving to the hospital. This was the last thing she wanted; she couldn't believe this. What did she do to deserve this? Her worry and stress was revolting, the shit this woman had to go through was disgusting. She did it, though. But she couldn't do it anymore. She didn't want to hear that her baby had been shot.

"Carlos," she breathed upon seeing him. "This…I can't handle this anymore."

Carlos looked up at her, his eyes tired from drugs. "I'm sorry," he said. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

"I know that," she said. "…Carlos. Charlie thinks it'd be a good idea for you to spend a year in a group home. When he hears about this…there's going to be an investigation. Things are going to go his way this time…"

"I don't care," he grumbled tiredly.

"You don't care?"

"Do with me what you want," he said. "I don't care."

"If you don't care, then I don't care."

"Fine."

"Fine."

However, it wasn't fine on the day it happened. Mrs. Garcia did it; she talked to Charlie and Carlos was going for a year. She couldn't let him get hurt again, she couldn't let him live his life the way he was. The track he was on needed to shift, and she was finally taking the initiative to change that.

She stayed strong when she had to, but it was the hardest thing she ever had to do. He was kidding, Carlos said. It's not fine, I care, he said. "Please don't leave me here." She wanted to burst into tears when he said that, but she didn't. She had already decided this had to happen and she was going to do whatever it took.

"You're going to be rooming with Kendall, James and Logan," said Tim, one of the staff 'advisors' at the group home called Mother Masters or, as the boys called it, M&M's. M&M's was ran by twelve different staff members, including a social worker, a personal therapist, and resource officer. There were always at least three staff members on, and they rotated periodically, taking different shifts with the boys that lived there.

When Carlos moved in, Tim, Carrie, and Chris were the staff members on. Carlos made the eighth boy that was living at M&M's, and he filled the last spot. There were three bedrooms; one that fit four boys, another that fit four boys, and a third that was for the staffs. All the boys were called into the living room, and were forced to introduce himself to the new house member. They weren't exactly thrilled; they all seemed miserable, the only one that didn't was a little, pale brunette that kept close with the tall blond.

"Boys," Carrie said, "Introduce yourselves."

"Kane," said the one with the scar on his face.

"Jared," said the one who was also short and had a slightly pointy nose.

"James," said the one who was tall, tan, and pretty.

"Lyle," said the one who was also tall, and tan, but he wasn't pretty…he was just hot.

"Corey," said the one with a baby face and really dark hair.

"I'm Logan," said the little pale one.

"I'm Kendall," said the dominant blond.

Carlos, being the jokester, said, "I'm Carlos. I guess I'm the eighth M&M. Can I be green?"

There was a slight hesitation till all the boys burst out laughing. Carlos didn't care if they were laughing at him, or with him, but either way, he got them to laugh. Mission accomplished.

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><p>Note: I've got the next two done. Next is more James centered, then Logan, then it's gonna be Kendall. That's when the story will begin, like, the 'journey'. thanks for reading!(:<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Thought: I'm working at a store that isn't mine today, and I'm quite nervous, so I've decided to update now instead of at 11:00 pm, when I'll get home. I'm shaking. I promise I'll read your reviews as SOON as I can!I'm excited for you all to read Logan and Kendall's. Like, so excited. Without further adieu, here's James...

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><p><em>Step by step, heart to heart, left, right, left,<br>We all fall down like toy soldiers  
>Bit by bit, we're torn apart, never wait,<br>But the battle wages on,  
>Like toy soldiers...<br>_

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><p>James Diamond was in the back of a police car. What had happened was quite simple; he was caught stealing. Red handed. When the cops showed up, they said they'd take him home. They promised. But when they saw what the boy's living condition's were, they couldn't keep their promise. The parents weren't home; cupboards were empty and slightly dusty; Mold grew on the kitchen tiles and it had a funky smell.<p>

He hated his new position. He was forced to stay with the sheriff while people decided what to do with him. He was neglected; his parents knew of his existence, yet they chose not to care. They chose themselves over their only son. They were never home. They barely fed him, they barely clothed him. No wonder the kid was stealing from every store he went into.

He didn't mind living with the sheriff. In fact, he kind of liked it. He got new clothes, he had dinner every night. The sheriff himself was hardly ever home, and he spent most of his time with his wife, an elderly woman who was just a sweetheart. James had a thing for old people; he loved them all, in general. They intrigued him, their wisdom, their knowledge. They knew so much about life, they accomplished so much, they had so many experiences and stories to tell.

Of course, James was afraid of becoming old; he didn't want to get wrinkles, or turn ugly. But he couldn't lie, he was excited to be old and look back. He was excited to grow up and face whatever life had to throw at him. He was excited to be thrown into the real world and excited to have stories to tell. After all, he did love having all eyes on him.

He would never forget the day when Lucy McCoy, the Sheriff's wife, said, "James, honey…Mr. McCoy thinks you'd be best off at Mother Masters."

"Mother Masters?" James asked curiously. "What's that?"

"It's a group home. A group of boys live there for a little while, just while things are all sorted out; to help them better themselves."

"He thinks I'm trouble."

"…aren't you?"

"…yeah. But I try!"

"I know you do, Sweets," she said. "I know you do."

"Don't make me go there. _please_. I _like_ living here with you!"

"I like you living here, with me, too, Sweets, but we both know you can't. we knew it was temporary. And I'm afraid neither of us have a choice once the courts approved of this. And I hate to have to say this, but, David didn't even talk to me about it."

The courts agreed that James couldn't go back upon a fair trial, and there he was, the 5th M&M. His first day at the group home was pretty awful. His roommates, Kendall and Logan wouldn't even look at him, hating that he was intruding, hating that they had just had the room to themselves, and now James was there.

It was safe to say that all the boys in the whole damn place blatantly ignored him. Loving having the spotlight, he _hated_ the way things had went. He really had wanted to make a good first impression, but it seemed as though everybody hated him for so quickly taking the only opening spot at M&M's after the other boy had left. It was hard for them to accept newcomers, but they were getting better at it.

It took everyone a few days to open up to him, and his best friend in the house had originally been Jared. The two had a lot in common, background wise. Except Jared's parents plain out abandoned him. They left him to die somewhere. At least James's parents showed up occasionally and fed him _sometimes_. But still, they liked to talk to each other. But they soon found that they were _too_ alike and eventually couldn't spend so much time with each other.

That's when he discovered his common interest with Kendall: hockey. Kendall _loved_ hockey, always, and he was a huge fan of the Minnesota Wild, and the Boston Bruins. (STANLEY CUP, 2011 YEAH BUDDY! ahem… sorry…). James loved to play hockey, he loved how it was _fun,_ _dangerous_ and a workout all at once. Playing strengthened his legs, and arms, not to mention kept him strong and in shape. It also urged him to work out more, in order to compete with Kendall and Logan.

When he started to get close with Kendall, he understood why Logan looked up to him so much. Kendall was just this rock; he was a foundation to the strength that the boys were in need of. He had complete faith that everything would be okay. That one day, they'd look back on their lives laughing at this time, laughing at how stupid they were. He had honest faith in the M&M's. He trusted they'd get everyone to where they were supposed to be.

James, however, hated to think about it, his being neglected. He hated to talk about it. He seemed to have a lot of trust with Kendall; in fact, _all_ the boys did, with the exception of Kane, who only trusted himself. James didn't really tell the therapist anything during their weekly mandatory session. All the boys were required to meet with him, and talk about their past. James hated it.

He didn't like looking back, he wanted to focus on looking forward. He hated that they were constantly accusing him of being miserable due what happened. But he wasn't. He tried to forget about it, and live optimistically. He was _great_ looking, he wasn't doing all that bad in school, he had friends, he had a family, he had clothes and food and a stable home. The way he saw it, he was doing alright. He was right where he needed to be.

So, during the sessions, instead, he talked about his life in the _now_, like what girl he made out with under the bleachers, what his latest test score in math was, what he had for food that day, and how many times he had to use his lucky comb and trusty handheld mirror.

Carlos really liked James. He really liked all the guys; he was a people person in general, and he liked everyone. James really liked Carlos. The little Latino was fun, and bubbly. He was quite energetic and he seemed to be the kind of guy to crack a joke in a room where it's needed most. He seemed to be the kind of guy to step up and turn a tense situation into a relaxed setting. He seemed to be the kind of guy James needed in his life.

There was something about James that intrigued Carlos, and he was kind of glad that he was sharing a room with who he was sharing with. He'd hate to have to share a room with Kane who was _mean_ looking, Carlos couldn't help but admit. Jared seemed a little dangerous, too. Corey seemed kind of pathetic and Lyle seemed like he really didn't belong there.

Kendall seemed badass, like in a good way. Carlos could easily tell that he would look up to Kendall; he just seemed so together and proper, and as James thought, the foundation. He learned the first day that Kendall was the one who had been there the longest; two years, and running. Kendall apparently, had been so out of control that he was ordered by a judge to stay at M&M's till he was eighteen. It was pretty much a safe haven from jail. Kendall didn't mind it too much, he didn't mind being there. He actually enjoyed it.

James seemed cool; like in the way where you just could hang out with him. Carlos could easily tell he'd get along with James; they both had the same taste in music as they learned that first day, and they both used Cuda products. James, as aforementioned, didn't like to talk about his situation. But neither did Logan, who Carlos had _no_ idea why he was there.

The first night, he learned he had nightmares, and the lights turned on as soon as he woke up crying, and Carlos watched Kendall sit on the side of his bed and talk to him softly, talking him out of the nightmare and into reality. James stood up got close to Carlos's bed, which was last on the right. James was next to him, Logan next to him, and Kendall beside him in the far left. Four beds, all lined up. James knelt on the floor next to Carlos's head and Carlos propped himself up on an elbow.

"This happens a lot," James whispered as they still heard Kendall's voice. "Logan's pretty tapped in the head. It's complicated."

"Everything's always complicated," Carlos commented.

James nodded in agreement. "Logan's different though. Everybody has their own story…and it's just sad. Well, I mean, they're _all_ sad stories. I bet yours is, too."

Carlos shrugged. "Might be. Might not be."

"We know you were shot," James said. "But we're not supposed to know. Kendall just likes to know things and Logan's a genius so they always figure out the scoops. How'd it happen? Were you like, a drug dealer?"

Carlos shook his head, smirking a little. "No. It was just bad timing."

James looked like he didn't believe that that was the case, but let it slide anyway. "Logan'll tell you his story," James said with a nod. "Curiosity will eat you till he does, though. He's the strangest thing, but he's the best person I've ever known and I've met a lot of people. But, like I said, he's tapped. You've gotta be careful with him. If you're not, Kendall will knock you out. He's like, Kendall's little buddy. Logan's the only one he _really_ _truly_ trusts, and it's cause he was the only one who was here when he was."

What James meant was that Logan was there the second longest; Kendall was the only kid there who was part of the original group of boys who lived there when Logan got to the house. Logan was also staying there till he was eighteen, but for completely different circumstances. Either way, he needed those years with Kendall to calm his ass down and try to forget all the bad stuff. But nobody was sure that was possible.

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><p>Note: Yup, set it up for the Loge-ster. Like i said, so excited. I have trouble writing James because of a personal problem. It has nothing to do with our fabulous Maslow, but he has the same name as someone who has disappointed me in so many ways that I feel physically sick when I think about it. So, leave me with tons of thoughts because you all always make my lifeee! (: thanks for reading(:<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Thought: I was going to wait for this, you know, to get in my order of updates now, buuutttt a certain cheeky girl that i love is dyinnngggg to read this, so here it is. i hope you all enjoy, because i know this has been anticipated lol. (:

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><p><em>Lately, I've been hard to reach,<br>I've been too long on my own.  
>Everybody hasa private world where they can be alone<br>Are you calling me? Are you trying to get through?  
>Are you reaching out to me? Am I reaching out for you?<em>

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><p>Logan was an innocent child. He was the <em>sweetest<em>, cutest, littlest thing that anybody had ever seen. He was polite, quiet, and only spoke when spoken to. He knew that children were to be seen and not heard. He knew he wasn't aloud to talk about what his mom did, or what she hid. He knew that her secret was his secret.

She was a cruel woman. When Logan was bad, which, in her eyes was often, she'd force him to sit in front of the television and watch scary movies. This was her favorite punishment, because it always scared Logan so much. He hated them. He was only a kid, and he was afraid, _all the time_ that something was going to get him. He suffered from paranoia and anxiety from this alone, not to mention the other ways she used to torment him.

She'd lock him in closets for hours at a time, and listen to him cry, and scream, and beg to be let out. He'd tire himself out so badly, he'd get worked up so intensely, that he sometimes vomited, sometimes he passed out. He hated it. He was claustrophobic, and he hated confined spaces. She'd put knives in his face and threaten him; she'd shove thorns under his fingernails, aimlessly torturing him, embedding the sharp points into his tender fingers. She'd spit on him, she'd make him kneel on grits, she'd shout disgusting words at him, and she'd make him line up lines for her and the crack heads.

There was a big, giant hole in the wall of Logan's living room. Logan's mother allowed two crack heads to live in there. They were slightly cramped but they were there every night. All they had to do was give Logan's mom her nightly fix, and there they could stay. Logan hated them. Most of the time, his mom kept him in the closet, but sometimes he was allowed to sleep in his room. Sometimes he'd wake up to a crack head peeing on him, or sometimes he'd wake up to one humming horrendous tunes into his ear, or sadistically smiling at him from the other side of the room. Sometimes, he'd wake up to a crack head caressing his cheek, or kissing his neck or touching him oddly. He hated them. His mother didn't care; and Logan stayed quiet about it. He knew better.

Logan, however, tried his hardest to think his life wasn't that bad. He kept thinking about other people, kids, who didn't have parents, or who had parents that left them. Logan was fed, yeah. He was clothed, yeah. He was clean, yeah. However, he didn't grasp the fact that _he__was__abused_. He didn't grasp the fact that his mother had made him crazy; he couldn't understand that this wasn't really how life was supposed to go, and he didn't understand that he was _sick__in the head_ because of what she had done. He was nine, and he thought it was normal.

He tried to kill himself a lot; he'd blindfold himself and walk into traffic. He'd steal his mother's car at night, and take off down back roads without using the headlights. He'd go in the medicine cabinet and take a bunch of pills. He'd take razor blade and shove them as far into his skin as he possibly could. He'd claw at his face with sharp fingernails. He'd say things in front of people like, "I wish I could shove forks into my eyes." and, "I wish I was never born." and "I wish it would all _end_," unintentionally.

But there was one day, a glorious day for Logan, but he didn't know it at the time. He went to school with a bruise on his face, and four long marks going down each side of his face. His teacher was disgusted, sick of seeing her teenaged student coming to school like this all the time. She knew something was up. She wasn't stupid. So she asked him, "Logan, honey, what happened to you?"

Logan, as aforementioned, had paranoia, and anxiety. His chronic asthma didn't help, and how little his mother cared for his health was disgusting. He'd been in the closet for fifteen or so minutes. He shook his head, his voice almost gone from the screaming he'd done while being locked in the closet. His mother had so cleverly put the television in the closet, playing _It_, the movie about the sadistic clown. He'd been up all night, clawing his face and arms; the stinging had felt so good against everything else. It had been intense.

"_Please_ tell me. It can all go away if you do…"

"…I can't. I'm not allowed to tell," replied the soft, almost-gone, hoarse voice.

"_Please, please, please_," she begged. "Please…"

Logan shook his head, and looked at his shoes. "I can't."

"But, what can't you tell me?"

"If I told you what I can't tell you, then you'd know. And you can't know about it. Nobody can know."

And he walked home, alone, like he did every day. But the teacher had enough evidence to know that there was something going on. The '_it'. _That evening, she worriedly called the cops, she informed them of the student in her class who was constantly showing up with bruises and scratch marks on his face and arms. The boy who was the smartest in her class, the youngest in her class, yet, the most timid and broken. The boy she knew was being abused at home.

The cops went to his house that evening and were disgusted and disturbed by what they saw. Logan, on the floor in the living room, crying, staring at that wretched television; and the two crack heads, doing crack. His mother was knocked out drunk on the couch, and the crack heads were making sure he was watching the movie, as requested by the witch herself.

Logan was removed from the house that evening, staying in a facility till they found the opening at M&M's. The group home was willing to take another troubled teen till he was old enough to be on his own. They told the cops that they'd had one already, and that the one they had was going to be an excellent influence. The cops trusted them. They had faith in M&M's, and they had faith in Kendall, even though they hadn't met him before. They figured it was a great alternative to a mental institute, or an asylum. Logan didn't do well at the institute the week he was there, yet he did flawlessly at Mother Masters. His ever binding trust with Kendall started the day they met.

Logan didn't trust anybody like he trusted Kendall. It was the oddest thing anybody had ever seen, although, it was quite miraculous. You had this boy who didn't talk to anyone for the past fifteen years of his life, and he meets this one boy, and bam. Everything spills. Once Logan told Kendall, Kendall got him to tell everybody. Well, almost everybody. Everybody that Kendall trusted, Logan automatically trusted. Kendall treated everybody fairly, therefore Logan did, too.

Logan looked up to Kendall, because Kendall was in the same situation as he was in. They were both stuck at M&M's. They were the only two. The others had visitors, ones that they'd be able to go home with for forever some day. The others had visitations, and sometimes got to spend a night at a time at home. Kendall didn't, but his mom and sister visited sometimes. Logan didn't, but his mom was in jail.

Logan followed the rules the best, but he needed the most help and attention, especially at first. It had been extremely difficult for the staff to calm him down when he had an episode; he'd randomly freak out and hurt himself. Sometimes, they made him wear gloves, and they'd made him wear oven mints to bed for a while. They were scared for his mental health, but they had to get him through this. It was their job to help him, it was their job to make sure he was the successful little genius he was meant to be. Kendall made their jobs a hell of a lot easier, though, they would never deny that.

Carlos was had questions about Logan, naturally. He didn't know what the boy was all about, but he knew he found him rather odd. He _clearly_ suffered from obsessive compulsive disorder; he was an absolute neat freak. Carlos had watched him wash and rewash his hands for three hours because he didn't like the way it was done the first time. He'd cleaned and organized _everything_ he possibly could; he adjusted pictures, and he'd pick the dead skin off of his fingers. He would look oddly at people and say random things, almost as if he had Tourette syndrome. It took him more than twenty minutes to make his twin bed. Carlos learned early on that the kid was legitimately disturbed.

Logan ate very little. He poked at his food for hours, but rarely ate it. It was the nights Kendall was talking to him, distracting him, where he ate a good portion at the same pace as everyone else. But everyone wished it wasn't as rare as it was. Everybody in the house was wary of Logan; he made them nervous. He was like a ticking bomb, and any slight movement would set him off. He scared them. And he knew it.

Carlos, however, made it a point to not be afraid. He wasn't going to be wary of Logan, he wasn't going to treat him differently than he treated everyone else. Carlos was a good guy, and he knew that. He was going to just be _real_ with him. Didn't want to walk on water around him. He wanted to be himself. He was all he had left of home now, anyway.

Kendall was in the shower one day, and James was off in his weekly mandatory session. Logan was on his bed, one headphone in his ears, notebook on his knees and pencil at his fingertips; Carlos sat on his bed, just one bed away, watching him.

This irked the pale boy; he didn't like the fact that Carlos was staring. He didn't say anything, however, nor did he acknowledge the Latino at all. In fact, Carlos felt uncomfortably unnoticed. He wasn't used to it, and didn't like it. "Uh, Logan?" Carlos asked.

Logan blinked and took the remaining headphone out of his right ear. He looked over towards Carlos, stared blankly, then lifted his head up and staring again, going, "Hmm?"

"Uh…did you listen to the hockey game last night? It was on the radio."

Logan shook his head. "No. I clearly missed it."

"Oh. Well, uh, it sounded so cool. I wish I could have watched it. Apparently, Lucic beat the snot out of Benoit Pouilat, but at the _wrong_ time in the game. He almost cost them the entire thing."

"That's interesting," Logan said monotonously.

"Yeah. So…uh…what, uh, what were you doing, you know, last night?"

Logan smiled casually. "I was in the bathroom, is all."

"All night?"

"…shit happens."

Carlos had to agree, shit does happen. "Was it the light thing?"

"No. It was the shower curtain thing."

"Oh." Carlos didn't know about the shower curtain thing, however, it didn't surprise him. He figured _everything_ was a thing with Logan. That's how it appeared and that's how it was. "So…"

"So…"

Awkward silence.

"…yeah."

"Uh…how do you, uh, like it here?"

Carlos shrugged a shoulder. "It's okay. Sometimes I still think I'm going home tomorrow. It's weird thinking I'll be here for a year."

"I'm gonna be here for a long time," said Logan, "but it's better here. It's good here. You'll see. They'll help you."

"Help me what though?"

"Help you stop being bad and getting arrested. I've seen them do it. You won't be any different. You're gonna leave, just like Jared will, and Kane, and Lyle, and Corey and James. But you'll be helped, you'll be good."

"Do you really think it's going to take you till your eighteen to be good?" Carlos asked.

Logan shifted his eyes, as if he was thinking. "I think it'll take longer. I'm sort of irreparable."

"…to be irreparable you have to be broken. You don't seem broken to me."

Logan smiled again. "I put up a good front, though, then. I've been doing good this week. But sometimes I can't help it. Sometimes I can't help what I do and sometimes they say they're going to make me leave and go back to an institute if I do it, but I can't help it."

"Do what, exactly?"

"Freak out. Tim calls it my spells. Carrie calls it panicking. Whatever it's called, they don't like it. I just…block out. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm thrown back somewhere I shouldn't ever be."

Carlos felt a little awkward, but there was no way in hell he could leave that conversation where it was. "I'm sorry…" he said, instinctively.

"Why?"

"…because you had to go through bad things."

"Everybody here has. Even you. Why are _you_ here, Carlos?"

"…I was shot and that was the final straw," Carlos said plainly. "Why are _you_ here?"

"I didn't tell. They just knew."

"Riiight."

"You act like I'm a weirdo or something."

"You _do_ act like a weirdo or something."

Logan laughed. "Oh? Well, in all actuality, Carlos, I believe it's _you_ who's the weirdo. What was the first thing you said to us? As I recall, you asked if you could be the green M&M."

"That was just a joke."

"Well, I guess we found something that we have in common. My whole life has been just a joke."

Carlos felt awkward, but he wasn't going to let him have the last word. He wasn't going to end this conversation where he is. "That's a bit harsh to say. What makes you say that?"

"Harsh doesn't cut it. And _that's_ what makes me say that."

"Oookay. Well, uh, sorry I bothered you…" He felt really awkward, and he didn't really want to talk to Logan anymore. He was so sour, and so unwilling to let him in. He clearly had no trust in Carlos, nor was he planning on just giving him any. …unless Kendall had trust in him.

But at this point, Logan didn't know what Kendall thought of Carlos. The kid had been there for a week, nobody knew anything about him. James seemed to like him, and that made it easier for him to sleep at night. He'd had a nightmare the first night Carlos was there; the very presence of a stranger disturbed him even whilst asleep. Kendall of course, calmed him down, told him he was being irrational, that this happened every time someone new moved in. This, of course, was true. But _those_ nights weren't the only occasions where he had nightmares, so Logan couldn't logically call it a reason. Just a coincidence. That's all his nightmare was to him; that's all _Carlos_ was to him. Something that happened by chance in a surprising, or remarkable way…

Kendall entered the room, hair soaked, in his pj's. Logan looked up, and again, took the headphone out of his ear. "Logan, what are you writing about?"

"…stuff," he grumbled.

"Okay, don't tell me. Carlos, are you nervous about going to school tomorrow?"

"No," Carlos said, shrugging. He'd moved before, it was no big deal. He was definitely going to miss his friends, and this one English teacher, but he wasn't nervous. He was ready to meet new people and hang with a new crowd. Change was something natural for him. He had moved a few times.

"It's not too bad," Kendall said, "However, it _is_ large and confusing."

Carlos said, "Great. Because directions are my best thing," sarcastically. Everyone in the whole house already knew Carlos was accident prone and ignorant of direction. They had already seen him walk into two doors and a tree, they saw him hit his head on the roof of the van a few times, his pinky closed in it once, he got lost in the Wal-Mart twice, and he was banned from leaving the house (besides school) for a week because of it.

Kendall had to chuckle. "Don't worry, we'll help you. We're usually pretty good with that. Right, Logie?"

Logan looked up and had that smile on his face. "Right. We'll help you, Carlos, don't worry. We're usually pretty good with that."

Carlos's eyes shifted. He sought this rather awkward, but James walked in to lighten the mood, saving the day. "Dudes! We've got peanut butter crackers for snack tonight! Yeaaaaah buddy!"

Kendall looked at Carlos. "James loves peanut butter crackers. They're his favorite. The orange, square ones, you know?"

Carlos nodded. "And, just to warn you, James always eats half of everybody's packs," Kendall added.

James rolled his eyes.

Carlos laughed, thinking there was no way in _hell_ James was getting any of his peanut butter crackers.

"Hey, who's the staff tonight?"

"Uh Jace, uh, Vinny and Maggie," James replied. "They're making dinner. Well, Maggie's making dinner. Jace is watching and Vinny's making Jared do his homework."

"He still won't do it?"

"He's almost on lockdown."

"Jesus."

"You know he hates English."

"It's _his_ language."

"He sucks at it."

"You suck at…drawing."

"I have an unsteady hand!" Kendall defended.

"And lack of artistic ability altogether," James commented.

"Nobody's perfect."

"You're the closest thing we have to that, so you need to learn how to draw."

"I can color in the lines, that's good enough."

"…agreed."

Carlos couldn't help but giggle. "This whoooole conversation makes me laugh."

Logan looked at Kendall with red ears and a small smile on his face. Kendall winked at him, with subtle grin and Carlos jumped up from bed when Maggie knocked on the door and said dinner was done, but James beat him out the door, wanting to finish his meal as quickly as possible to get his hands on peanut butter crackers.

Logan got up and joined the boys for dinner, but he didn't eat any.

He sat there and separated his foods from touching, and the staff had him sitting there for a few hours before he had to go to bed.

Carlos couldn't help but go to bed thinking that Logan was _weird_. He also couldn't help but think that, _damn, James was right. _Curiosity was eating at him to learn Logan's story. Logan was, in fact, the strangest little thing, and he wanted to learn how he got that way. He wanted to hear it, but he wanted Logan to be the one to tell him. He was glad everybody at the house respected Logan enough to not blab it out. But he couldn't lie, he _really wanted to know_. It was, after all, supposed to be pretty intense.

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><p>Note: Yeah. so. There you go. lol. thanks for reading!(:<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Thought: I forgot the order of how I wanted to update things, and since this was halfway done already, I figured, what the hell, Juicy it is. Here it is. Kendall's story.

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><p><em>Cause sometimes you just feel tired<em>,  
><em>You feel weak and when you feel weak you feel like you wanna just give up. <em>  
><em>But you gotta search within you, you gotta find that inner strength <em>  
><em>and just pull that shit out of you and get that motivation to not give up <em>  
><em>and not be a quitter, no matter how bad you wanna just fall flat on your face and collapse.<em>

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><p>Kendall was tired. His eyes showed that clearly, but his head wasn't cleared. He sat on the floor in his bedroom, so broken and plain out exhausted that he just wanted to die. He hated himself. He hated his life. He didn't know why he couldn't control himself; he couldn't grasp onto the fact that he wasn't supposed to be mad all the time. They gave him pills, but they made him <em>so sick<em>. They gave him something different, and they made him _so tired_. He hated side effects. He just wanted to be normal.

But he couldn't.

Because he wasn't.

Kendall was his own, biggest victim. He hurt himself more than he hurt anybody else. But he hurt others a lot, so you can just imagine how badly he tortured himself. Every time he yelled at someone, or hit someone, or _wanted_ to hit someone, he'd effected himself more than anyone else. He knew his mother was worried for him. He knew he was hurting himself. He was slowly going crazy in his mind; he couldn't control his anger, his ADHD was at an all time high, his life was spiraling downward quickly. He yelled at Katie, ignored his mother, and told his teachers to fuck off.

He had a rough day at school; he didn't take any medication that morning and his entire body was in a different state of mind. His teachers were down his throat about school work that he didn't have time for, or the attention span to do, he went to work and his boss yelled at him for no _good_ reason. He went home and the principal was there, telling his mother of every class he was failing (all of them) and that he won't graduate if he stays on the track he was on, nor will he pass the 10th grade. He was 15. His mother then went on a rant about how he was suppose to be an example for Katie.

He responded with, "I don't give a _fuck_ about being an example for Katie! _You_ should be the example, not me! _Dad_ should be around to be the example, _not me_!" Then, he proceeded to flip out, smash vases and the coffee table, he took a bat to the window and the television. His mother was sobbing with the fear of his rage and he smashed his head into the wall; and ran off to his room, slamming the door and piling as much shit in front of it as he possibly could, despite knowing that nobody would come.

His entire body shook; he couldn't control himself. He ripped apart his bed, his bookshelves, his closet. His laptop ended up smashed, pictures flung off the walls, the neck of his guitar snapped, holes in the wall, ripped schoolwork. He ripped the head off the stuffed animal Katie had gotten him for his birthday. He crushed the poptart he didn't eat that morning and he set his backpack on fire and threw it out his window, along with his work apron. He was so friggin pissed off.

The cops showed up and tried to restrain him, but he couldn't be stopped. He'd punched one of them in the nuts and the officer cowered back; the other one gripped his arms and threw him harshly against the wall. "YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN!" He shouted at Kendall, trying to get the boy to hear him.

Kendall broke free of the officer and sunk to the ground, sobbing. He _hated_ himself. He looked at the damage. He wasn't getting out of this one.

He spent a few nights in a mental institute. He wasn't stable; he was _crazy_, they said. He wasn't crazy, though, he was just _sick_. He was sick and tired of this life. He had friends, yeah, but they didn't appreciate him like they should. He bent over backwards for them, but they didn't see that. His father had bounced out of his life, his mother didn't know what to do with him half the time and Katie looked up to him, but he couldn't give her the time of day because he was so ashamed of himself. He wasn't good enough for her.

Then, he spent a few nights in jail, while they tried to figure out 'what to do with him.' he _hated_ that phrase, he'd heard it so many times, but it always got worse. He needed to be somewhere where they would _constantly_ be watching out for him, but he couldn't live in a mental institute because he wasn't _crazy_, just sick.

Then, they discovered Mother Master's. It was perfect and there was available space for him there. They'd give him intense therapy, find pills that worked for him, and get him on the right path. They'd help him turn into a respected man, and they would raise him. His mother didn't want him living at her house anymore, he was too dangerous. She had Katie to think about, and although she loved him desperately, there were some things she had to sacrifice to help him. Her approval of him staying at Mother Master's till he was eighteen seemed to be her only option at that point. She was willing to try anything to save him from himself. To save him from Katie. To not have to deal with this.

Kendall had tried many different medications to try to calm him down, but it pissed him off because he always ended up throwing up, or sleeping the day away. He remembered one pill that made him throw up so much that the staff brought him to the hospital and they had to wait there for him to stop throwing up. It was safe to say he never took _that_ pill again. They just wanted him to _feel_ normal, even if he wasn't. They wanted to find something for him that would prevent him from becoming so angry, and prevent him from being so hyperactive. It was hard, because Kendall's body didn't react well to_ anything_.

It took five months of excruciating pill experimentation for them to find something that worked. And it was the new house member, Logan, that had suggested the pills. "If he takes _this_ and _that_, they won't mesh and make him puke. It'll take him a drowsy week to get used to it, but he shouldn't throw up and if it works as it's supposed to, then it'll help."

And it did. The kid was, after all, a friggin genius. And he was Kendall's new little buddy.

Logan, for whatever reason, latched to Kendall. He looked to him like a big brother or something from the day they met; the first thing Kendall ever said to Logan was, "Hey. Don't cry, buddy, it'll be okay. Trust me…it's okay…" and from there, they'd been basically inseparable. Trust was a big word for Logan, and he was a little _iffy_ about it at first…

Logan trusted Kendall because Kendall had trusted him. When Logan suggested the medication the very first day, and it worked, that had done it for Kendall. For _years_ doctors and therapists and medical experts and this that and the other person tried to find something that worked, and they had all failed. There was this little, timid, white boy who, on the first day there, found something that toned down his anger and calmed down his brain without making him sick, there was an immediate wall of trust. A wall that could never be broken.

It was slightly weird for Kendall to be at M&M's, knowing his mom was at home with Katie. He hated that he had to stay there till he was eighteen; but he knew it was for the better. He didn't want to go home and be thrown off track. He didn't wan to go home and leave Logan, when he promised he'd be there. He couldn't.

Kendall was the one who knew literally _everything_ that happened to Logan. He didn't trust a lot, and half the staff irked him and he didn't want to tell anyone of his problems. They were _his_. But Kendall seemed to understand, because Kendall had problems of his own. The only difference was, Kendall's problems were brought on by himself. Logan's problems were brought on by others.

The first night Logan had a nightmare, (that Kendall knew of) Kendall was by his side, again, telling the smaller to trust him, that it was going to be okay. "Trust me, Loges, okay? Nothing bad will happen to you here, unless you behave badly. You'll get through this, you'll pull through this…and when you look back when you're eighteen you're gonna be like, damn. I did this by myself. You're gonna be so proud. Block out all the bad stuff, because things can only go up."

"But It's gonna get me."

"What's _it?_"

"It. The clown. He's gonna come up from the drains, I know it."

"What do you tell me all the time? 'You're being illogical. That can't _actually_ happen.' It was just a movie, okay? Based off of a make believe book written by Stephen King. Fiction." Kendall knew how to calm Logan down the day he met him. He was good at it, counting how many times he'd calmed himself down.

"Fiction. Literary works of imagination."

"Exactly. Just make believe; not real. _It's_ not real. _This_ is real."

Logan slept with blankets and pillows over his face every night, except for the nights he slept facing Kendall. He had it planted in his brain that Kendall was always going to be by his side when he needed him, that Kendall was right there, because in _reality_, Kendall was, and _It_ wasn't. The monsters, they weren't real, Kendall convinced him of that. But it didn't mean he could just forget. It didn't mean his past didn't happen. It just meant his future looked brighter. Kendall knew, he'd figured it out, that life is what you make it.

You choose who you want to be. You choose how you want to act and you choose your strength. And once you do, it's your job to learn how to use it, and apply your choices. You can't wait for things to just happen, you make them happen, you make them spicy, and juicy, and once you work your ass off to get to where you want to be, the rest just falls into place. It's your job to set it up. Otherwise, you'll never make it.

Kendall was never a good leader before M&M's, despite it being his natural instinct. He didn't _want_ to be an example, or a role model. He didn't care what other people thought about him, he didn't care what other people did. But when he met Logan, he decided that he couldn't just let this kid be scared of everything all the time. He couldn't let him live his life afraid something's going to get him. He knew there was so much more to life than that. And, even though _Logan_ was the genius, Kendall knew more than he did.

See, Logan sucked up information like a sponge. However, it was all quite useless in the _'real world'. _Mathematics, science, geography, radical calculations and computations will _not_ matter when you're on the street alone with nothing but the clothes on your back and the dirt in the soles of your shoes. Knowing all the presidents of the United States and the years they were in office won't matter. Knowing all the capitals of said states will not matter. Being able to mix nitrate with sodium and create a white precipitate that will dissolve in excess NaOH, creating a colorless solution with the calculations will not matter.

What will matter is the will power not to give up. What will matter is the determination to be fearless. Kendall had never been a leader, he didn't preach to people, he didn't comfort them or tell them it'd be okay. He didn't care. But those little lost, broken, brown puppy dog eyes of Logan's changed his opinion. It's funny, how one person can alter your entire thought process. Kendall had been honored to be trusted by the small, timid white boy who'd spent years being physically and emotionally tortured.

Carlos took a liking to Kendall immediately. With Kendall, what you saw was what you got. He was straight up, he didn't care what you thought about him, but if it came down to it, he would lead you out of any bad situation. He wanted to avoid them. He wanted to better himself, and he wanted to do good and be good. He wanted better, he wanted to do better, and he wanted to be better, and he was determined to do so.

Carlos watched day after day as the senior of the boys worked like one of the staff members. He was so keen on being apart of everyone's lives; just trying to help and make it _easier_. It was hard for them to be away from their families, and Kendall had long since accepted his fate. Carlos, being new, wasn't taking it so well. He didn't want to be away from his family for a whole year. He was already missing his brothers and his mother.

"It'll be okay," seemed to be Kendall's catchphrase, and he honestly believed it. He was not even close to hypocritical, because he _knew_ in his heart that things will be okay if you work at them and fix them.

"Look," he said to Carlos, "This is good for you. It's hard, yeah, but you don't want to be getting arrested and shot all the time. In a year, you'll go back home. Things will be different, but they'll be better. You can be a good influence for your brothers. They look up to you, you know? You getting arrested has them thinking it's okay to be arrested. Do you want that for them?"

Carlos shook his head softly, "No, of course not, bu-"

"This is your golden window of opportunity, Carlos. The first year flies by. It helps being here, it really does. Take James for example. His first week, he went AWOL. They found him though, and he was restricted for like, three weeks from doing anything. He never did that again. They help you here."

"But when we leave and go back home, we can just keep doing the same shit," Carlos pointed out.

"Well, yeah," Kendall said with a shrug, "but, is that what you want? To leave and keep doing the same shit? It's all about your choices, bro. You choose to do the same shit with the same loser people when you go back, that's up to you. But you're better than that. Don't you want to be better than that?"

And that was why Kendall chose to lead people. Because he was friggin good at it. He knew what to say and when to say it. He knew how to make you think. He knew how to get you to make the right choices. After all, it's all about the choices.

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><p>Note: I kind of liked this, but when I get confident about what I write, I feel like i shouldn't. because I can always do better. anyway. thanks for reading!(:<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

Thought: Hi. So, my beach didn't happen. but whatev. I'm having a grad party tomorrow and I'm NOT looking forward to it, and my Cheeky is going away for a whole week and this is the worst news ever. Okay. And I hope this is good, cas I've kind of been sucking hard lately. oh, and I hate my life.

* * *

><p>Carlos sat at the table for dinner; rice, chicken and corn. He was hungry, so he didn't really care what it was, or how it tasted. They ate in an awkward silence; shifting eyes and scraping forks the only noise being heard. Until, Tim, the staff member, broke the silence. (The other two staff members on that night were in the office, doing some paperwork). "How was school today, guys?"<p>

He heard a series of "fine" 's, "okay" 's and "whatever" 's. Carlos looked around and _clearly_, nobody planned on saying anything. He didn't want to just sit there. What was the point in not saying anything? "Today, I was in the bathroom at school, and I just _happened _to notice that one of Johnny Tinkler's balls is bigger than the other one. Does that mean he has cancer?" Carlos was innocently genuine while asking this question, and looked at Tim for an answer.

Tim, however, choked on chicken while the boys burst out laughing. Carlos didn't smile, a little upset that nobody answered his question. Someone _had_ to know. He was just concerned, although, he was glad that he'd gotten everybody to laugh. That was his favorite thing.

Finally, Logan's voice filled the over the laughter, "It doesn't necessarily mean he has cancer, Carlos. It's likely benign."

"How?"

"The human body is a terribly gross thing," Kendall pointed out. "Leave it at that."

Carlos shrugged a shoulder. "What if he does have cancer? Should I say something? Just go up to him and be like, 'uhh, dude, here's the thing…'?"

They were still laughing, snickering if you will, this entire time.

"No," Kendall said firmly. "You let him figure it out and go to the doctor himself."

"What if he _doesn't _figure it out?"

"Let him die."

The comment immediately hushed the laughter. Kendall was serious as a heart attack when he said it, which frightened everybody but Logan who just looked up at him curiously, clearly subliminally agreeing, and Carlos, who was honestly oblivious.

Carlos blinked, stunned. "Just -"

Tim interrupted, and gave Kendall a stare so hard it gave Carlos the chills, but not as intense as Kendall's subtle smirk. "That's enough, Kendall. Carlos, he'll figure it out. He more than likely _knows_ that one…ahem, of the situation, and has probably already addressed it. Change the topic, _please_."

"We're dissecting frogs in Biology next week," Carlos said excitedly. "And later this year, we're doing pigeons, and _pig fetuses!_"

"Erhh," Tim said, mocking a buzzer sound. "Wrong answer. Pick again."

Carlos rolled his eyes subtly, not wanting time-out like the last time he rolled his eyes at a friggin staff member. I mean, Matt had it coming. Carlos sighed and poked his chicken with his fork. "I had chicken nuggets at school today," he said.

"How were they?" Tim asked, when nobody responded to the little Latino's comment.

Carlos thought for a moment, before saying, "Hmm, rubbery," with a small nod.

"…my chicken nuggets were rubbery, too," James said, to the left of Carlos.

"My chicken patty was rubbery!" said Corey. "Do they even _cook_ the food! They probably just nuke it in a giant microwave or something."

"I'm pretty sure they bake them in an oven at the beginning of the week, and let it all just sit there under the lights, keeping it toasty warm. Then they feed it to us, like we're dogs that eat anything," Kendall noted.

"You guys _are_ dogs," said Tim.

Carlos laughed, "Yeah, _Mad dogs_."

The guys started laughing again, except Logan didn't let himself, just smiled and looked down, trying his best (and succeeding) to go unnoticed.

It was at that point, however, where Kendall _really_ noticed Carlos's sense of humor. The tall enjoyed having Carlos around much more quickly than he had every other person, with only one exception. It took him about three _months_ for Kendall to like James, and that was the longest it took with any of the boys there. It took Kendall less than a day to love having Logan around. In fact, Kendall enjoyed having Logan around _before_ Logan even got there because he _knew_ that he'd be there for a long time, just like him. He'd have a best friend throughout this entire journey.

The boys helped clean up dinner, Kane and Jared on dishes, Corey and Lyle on trash, Carlos and James on table clean up, and Kendall and Logan on leftovers and counters. They all sat at the table and did their homework, Logan finishing first and waiting at the table for everyone else to finish. Carlos was the last, and the guys found it annoying, but they all understood that it wasn't easy. They were doing it, too. After everyone was finished with homework, was then they were allowed their hour of television.

Carlos noticed immediately that Logan never participated in this event, thus nor did Kendall. Carlos sucked it up; boy oh boy did he love television. No matter what they were watching, he didn't care, it _made his day_. It was _so_ entertaining, that was the one thing he hated, that, and no video games. He couldn't _wait_ to get visits home; he'd watch television and play video games the _entire_ time, that's how much he missed it.

After their hour of television, like clockwork, it was eight o'clock. Snack time. Carlos went to his room to tell Kendall and Logan that it was snack time. Pudding cups, choices were chocolate and vanilla, and it was two four packs, and it was first come first serve, so if you wanted chocolate, you'd better hurry. He was thinking over how to say it in his head when he entered their room.

Logan was on his bed, writing, and Kendall was, apparently, in the shower. "It's almost snack time," Carlos said, "And it's pudding and-"

"I understand," Logan said with a nod.

Carlos pressed his lips. "Alrighty. Well, I was just warning you, you know, in case you wanted -"

"I got it."

"Okay. Well, uh, sorry I bothered you," Carlos said, backing out of the room, knocking into Kendall, in his pj's with wet hair. Like friggin de ja vu, hadn't this night already happened? He was first in line and got chocolate, with James on his tail. Jared and Lyle actually _liked_ vanilla pudding, so they didn't care, and Kane seemed pretty mad that he got stuck with vanilla, but Carlos said, he _should_ have known.

After snack, they had to go in their rooms and read. Carlos at first, just pretended to read, until he got so bored that he had no choice but to just read. He found that he actually kind of _liked_ it, if the book was good enough. He just had to find the _right one_. Logan was the wiz, so he helped Carlos find books that he liked.

Showers were during reading, so, one by one they'd get their showers done during reading. Carlos was second to last today, which he _hated_ because he barely had hot water and had to crank it up to as hot as it's supposed to go to feel some comforting warmth. Kendall was _always_ first because he showered at the end of TV time. James usually was second. Logan always took the longest because he _cleaned_ the tub before he used it, so he was always last.

Nine thirty was lights out, and nine forty five was complete silence.

Then, they'd wake up and do it all over again. It was typically the _same_ thing. Sometimes the boys would get in trouble for their mouths, or their grades. Logan was the most odd of all, and after two months he hadn't said anything to Carlos that would remotely help him solve any part about Logan's history. You know, the one that's eating him alive.

James talked to Carlos the most. James found a comforting friendship in Carlos; Carlos was such an easy-going, trustworthy guy, and James had sensed that immediately. The two of them enjoyed just talking together; it didn't matter if either said something stupid because the other just understood. He got it, it clicked, it made sense, and it was something _both_ of them needed.

James would tell Carlos stories about what he and his friends did, and Carlos would come back with a story, slightly similar yet, vaguely the same. James once robbed the liquor store on 19th street in Easton with his friends; Carlos once _tried_ to rob the liquor store on 16th in Trentonville with his friends. James once got in a car accident and broke his left arm; Carlos once got in a car accident and broke his right leg.

One night, Carlos was asking James if he'd ever go visit his parents. "I get visits in a month or so, if I'm good. They'll start coming slow, of course, like one, then another a few weeks later, if I'm good. My mom's gotta give _honest_ reports. She's coming _here_ to visit this Saturday, Mr. Rocque said she could. Jared and Kane go home every weekend. Are you ever going to get a visit?"

James shook his head, "Nope, my parents weren't ever home. I'm just here because my parents hardly ever were around."

"So, are you here till you're eighteen, like Kendall and Logan?"

James shrugged. "I dunno. I'm not really sure what my deal is yet. I've been here for like, seven months. I lived with the sheriff of Easton and his wife for a little while. I really liked living there, but the sheriff didn't have no plans to raise me. I guess I'm here till they decided I don't needa be anymore."

"That sucks, dude. Where the hell were your parents?"

He shook his head again. "I dunno."

"So, they left you?"

"They didn't _leave_ per se, it was more of, neglect, I guess. They were never home, they didn't clean and left hardly any food, ever. When the cops showed up it was real bad timing, so I stayed with the sheriff till they found M&M's. Who knows where I'd be if it wasn't for Mother Master?"

Carlos nodded, wondering where he'd be if it wasn't for Mother Master's; probably out, getting into more trouble with Dak. Yet, here he was, in bed at nine thirty, lights out, having fifteen minutes till complete silence. Maybe it was good. He was in bed, instead of getting arrested. He was eating dinner at a table, instead of restaurant hopping, and leaving without paying.

He looked over towards Kendall and Logan, who were both already silent in their beds, listening to Carlos's and James's conversation. "I'm sorry," Carlos said. "That really sucks. You can share my mom. She's got a bunch of friggin kids, so she must love them."

Kendall smiled in his bed; again, his mind concluding that Carlos was wholesome, kind, and caring, and knowing exactly where it came from.

"Carlos?" James asked, his voice low. "Where's your dad?"

Kendall unnoticeably looked over, extremely curious about this, not having heard the small boy speak a word of the man, but having heard him mention his mother about sixteen hundred times.

Silence filled the air as James waited for the answer, not knowing how incredibly awkward Carlos was feeling. "I - uhm…he's…dead, ahem, dying."

"What is he? Dead or dying?"

"James!" Kendall shrieked, not being able to register the fact that James actually asked that out loud. Even Logan turned his full attention towards the other two.

"What?" James asked.

Carlos shifted his eyes and sat up, seeing two sets of eyes and James's hair. "It's fine," he said. "He's not dead, but he's as close as you can get. He's like a vegetable. He was shot from the back, like, in the spine, you know? He's not only paralyzed from the neck down, but, he's also in like, a comma. And they don't think he's waking up."

"How'd he get shot?"

Kendall face palmed.

"He was a cop."

"How'd _you_ get shot?"

"_Real_ bad timing."

"And that's why you're here? Because of real bad timing?"

"Pretty much."

James faked a chuckle, as if to say, _no shit. _"Me too, dude. Me too."

Then, they heard a knock at the door. "Silence time, boys. Goodnight," Tim's voice. Then, the boys silenced, as requested of them. Carlos was ready to fall asleep, because he wanted so badly to wake up to another day of school, to get out of M&M's for a while. Man, he needed to escape.

Note: Sorry that sucked. And to be clear, that's NOT a cliffhanger. Carlos isn't going to run away. I don't think. You never know with me. thanks for reading. (:


	6. Chapter 6

Thought: I just saw the new Harry Potter movie. (July 16th). Let me tell you, I've been a crazy fan as long as I can remember. My life has been changed, dramatically. There was a point where I couldn't even breathe. Guys, it was THAT bad, like, it was so intense. I was _sobbing_ and **hyperventilating**_**. **_My friend wanted me to go to the hospital, so I calmed myself down. I did not even prepare myself well enough for that movie, and I've read the book like 13 times. I swear, I could die tonight and it wouldn't matter. I honestly feel like my life is over.

Let me die in peace.

Oh, & for those of you who don't know (which is everyone who doesn't read Weak), **this is now a slash story**. Officially. Kogan, Jarlos. I can't help myself.

* * *

><p>Flashing lights woke up the single mother; they flew by the apartment, reminding her endlessly of her firstborn. She longed to see him again, but she was also afraid. She didn't know if she could leave without him.<p>

She was quite young when she had Carlos, and there were some complications at birth. Her heart didn't ache as much as it did when she had to leave him. The same with his first day of school, where she dropped him off. Or when he needed a ride to Dak's, or to his Uncle's. She just hated to leave him; she didn't find it natural. However, _him leaving_ was perfectly fine, because at least she didn't have to turn _her_ back on _him_, and that would hurt her way more than that being the other way around.

She was looking forward to the first allotted visit; she'd originally planned to leave Leo and the twins at home, but she would talk with Carlos on the phone often, and it seemed as though he was looking forward to seeing his brothers. She, however, was nervous about how they would behave. The twins liked trouble, and Leonardo was their target.

She tried to go back to sleep, but she couldn't help but focus on the heavy slumber of her two year old. She remembered when it was Carlos sleeping in the bed next to her. Carlos had often slept in his mother's bed when he was younger; his father wasn't around because he was paralyzed in a hospital.

Carl Garcia had been a police officer for maybe a year and a half at this point. There was actually a gang shooting and he got hit in the worst place possible. He was in a coma; he was paralyzed, and if he ever woke up, he wouldn't remember anyone, or anything. He'd basically be a pathetic infant, but he'd never have use of his body. He was twenty.

Carlos was two.

It was horrifying for Sylvia; she was a stay at home mom, and nineteen. Carlos's companionship is what kept her alive. That little baby is what motivated her to get out of bed everyday and live life; to get a job and do it on her own. She didn't have any parents that supported her. She didn't have many friends that had her back. But she had her baby, and he was the most precious, loyal thing in the world. He was the _best_ thing that ever happened to her; the only boy that would never hurt her, or leave her. And she didn't want to lose him.

She did what she had to do. She'd admit, she was desperate. It was obvious. She'd come home with guys once in a while, and Carlos no longer slept in her room, ever. She mostly was out at night, going other places. She didn't like to bring her work home with her.

Carlos was twelve when she was suddenly pregnant again, after honestly believing the only child she'd ever have was Carlos. She cried when she didn't know who the father was. She was disgusted with herself, you know, like, what had she become? This was pathetic. She broke down and called Carl's mother; Carlos's grandmother, and begged her for help. They hadn't spoken in a while, and so, she and Carlos took a trip to her house. See, Sylvia had wanted to pull the plug on Carl. To put him out of his suffering, you know? That infuriated Carl's parents; how dare she want to kill him, right? It was a disaster.

Sylvia explained it all, right there to the fellow Mrs. Garcia, with Carlos off with his grandfather, and the woman pitied her and said that Sylvia deserved to be helped and that this should have happened a long time ago. The Garcia's offered to pay rent for her at an apartment, so long as it was close so they could see Carlos more often.

So they moved a town over, and settled in an apartment, where Sylvia still lived, now, with her sons. Her heart raced as she thought about how much she missed Carlos; how much she missed those days where he was two, and three, and four, and slept with her every night, and how she had a _real_ nine to five job. Where things were so simple.

That didn't mean she didn't love all of her sons, or that she didn't like the way things were now. The only thing that was missing, of course, was Carlos, and she couldn't wait to see him again. But, at the same time, she was afraid…

* * *

><p>Carlos woke up happily, jumping out of bed, making it immediately, becoming accustomed to it now, after three months of pestering. It was just a natural thing, before he even peed or did anything else, make that bed. Or else.<p>

"My mom's coming TOMORROW," he screamed excitedly to James, who was groggily making his bed. "I. Am. So. Excited.!"

James laughed. "Awwh, does Carlitos miss his mommy?"

Carlos nodded ferociously and full of energy. "Mhmm, I sure do. And those brats."

"You don't know what you've got till it's gone, right?" Kendall piped, from his spot in the corner where he sat with Logan.

Carlos, again, nodded. "Mhm, right. We didn't _always_ get along, but I do miss my mom. Especially after hearing about James's parents, good God, at least my mom stuck around."

A normal person would be offended by this statement, but this was James we were talking about. James and Carlos had the same thought process, and they knew exactly what each other meant. James knew Carlos didn't mean any harm by what he said, and, in fact, James completely concurred with the datum. At least Carlos's mom stuck around. He'd never wish his life upon anyone else. "Yeah, dude, really," he said. "I can't wait to meet her. She sounds great."

Carlos did exceptionally well in school all day, and he even passed his algebra quiz. He was just so excited about seeing his family; he was in a great mood all day. He couldn't help but be happy about it. It'd been a few months since he'd seen her and the boys, and he was craving seeing them. His adrenaline pumped just thinking about it.

At lunch, he sat with James, Lyle, Corey and Jared, and told them all stories about his mom. Not all of them were good, but they were all interesting and worthwhile. Like the time they got in a fight and she kicked him out, yet she followed him out the door and begged him to come home. Or his birthday when she'd cook his favorite dinner, every year. Or how, when he was younger, she'd always write him a note and tape it in his lunchbox, and it was always signed with a heart, and then mom.

"She's really coming?" Carlos asked Carrie, one of the staff members, at dinner that evening. "Like, Rocque wasn't kidding when he said she could come?"

Carrie laughed. "Yes, Carlos, she's really coming. She called to confirm it this morning, even. She's looking forward to seeing you."

That night, in bed, Carlos couldn't help but continue to talk about his excitement. "And she always smells like vanilla. And she's got this _oooone_ freckle, right under her eye. Her eyes are brown, like mine. I have her eyes. I think. I've never really seen my father, so I don't know. She's the bravest lady I know."

"Mhmm," James said, being quite sure he was the only one still paying attention to Carlos endlessly ranting about his mother's greatness. It was sweet, actually, and James wished he could talk about his mother the way Carlos talked about his. But he couldn't. Still, he was glad someone could. He knew Logan's mother was wretched; he knew Jared's situation was similar to his. He knew Lyle's mother was nice, but she was uncaring, and Kane's mother was just the same, but he didn't speak much of her. Corey's mother was concerned, but he never had kind words. And Kendall - he knew Kendall's mom was around, and caring. But Kendall never spoke of her, or his actions toward her. He secretly resented her.

"She used to…well, she did what she had to do, you know? For me, to feed me and keep me with a roof over my head. Then the twins came and things kind of spiraled down for me and I got real bad and hung out with bad people, as mom says. I disappoint her, but I try not to. Hopefully I'm better for her now. Hopefully I'll be better for her, and be good enough."

James's head popped up and he looked at his friend. "She loves you," he said firmly. "And from the way you talk about her, there's nothing you could do that would ever disappoint her. She's proud of you, I can tell."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Kendall?" Carlos called over to the last bed on the other side. "Do you think my mom's proud of me?"

For a moment, there was a silence. For a moment, James thought Carlos wouldn't get a response. Then, the moment ended and time kept going, and a response was given.

Only, it wasn't Kendall's friendly voice. It was Logan and his logic. "Of course she's proud of you. She's your mother."

Kendall's eyes fell upon Logan; the taller was slightly shocked by this statement, nonetheless quite pleased. "I think your mother couldn't be more proud of you, Carlos. You're trying. That's all that matters."

And that's when Carrie knocked on the door, ordered silence, and Carlos was able to sleep with a big, sloppy smile on his face all night long.

* * *

><p>To say Sylvia's visit was hectic would be an understatement. The difficult duo that was Carlos's twin brothers ran amuck, despite the woman's best efforts to keep them tamed. Of course, Leo had to follow their every move, and it wasn't until Carlos ordered them to settle down did they finally listen.<p>

Randy clung to Carlos's leg the instant he saw him, and Andrew clung to the other one, with Leo right beside them. Carlos however, tried to get past them to hug his mother, who he missed, even though she was right in front of him. Seeing her wasn't enough.

He introduced the his mother to the guys, James first, of course. He then introduced the boys to the guys, and then, he introduced the guys to the boys. There was a lot of names being thrown at everyone, and it was slightly confusing, yet, they all seemed to get it. Besides, of course, the three toddlers. It was hard to mix up the twins. They were completely identical except for one thing: their hair. Randy had straight hair, and Andrew's was a curly mop. And, they were dressed differently.

The time allotted for parental visits was an hour. James, Jared, Corey and Lyle all stayed in the living room with Carlos and his family. Kane disappeared after introductions, naturally, because he didn't like anyone. Logan was next to leave and go to his room, with Kendall following.

James enjoyed Sylvia's company. He loved meeting her, and Carlos's brothers really seemed to like him the most. Carlos knew he'd picked the perfect best friend in the house when all this happened. Sylvia noticed immediately how much more happy Carlos was; she didn't see misery in his eyes and she didn't sense his old distraught attitude. He didn't have anymore crude jokes, but rather sarcastic and funny ones. He wasn't a smart mouth, not one curse word fell out of his mouth, and he actually hugged her.

She was impressed, to say the least. She wanted him home now. She wanted to take him back, and hug him and hold him forever. But she didn't want this side of him to end, and she knew that she wasn't reason he was like this. She didn't want to take him away too early, and have him go back to his old ways. That was the last thing she wanted.

She also didn't want to tell him the news she was supposed to tell him.

Sylvia looked at Chris, the staff member that was on and said, "Is there anyway I can speak to Carlos alone for a moment?"

Chris nodded, agreeing. "Sure. You two can step outside in the backyard. We'll keep our eyes on the boys," he assured.

She thanked him and Carlos led the way outside, and they sat on the steps to the backyard. "I miss you," was the first thing she said to him. He was, after all, the best friend she'd ever had.

"I know, I miss you, too."

"Do you like it here?"

"I do. It's helping, I know it is. James, he's my best friend. He makes it worth it every day."

Sylvia smiled. "He's _very_ handsome."

"Shut up," Carlos said with a smile and red cheeks, brushing it off as quickly as possible. "I wish you could visit more. Soon, though, I'll be able to come home for a sleep over. That'll be fun. I'm gonna watch as much TV and play as many video games as I can. Trust me on that."

Sylvia smiled at him, and she knew her time was running up quickly. She had to say this, and she had to say it now because she couldn't say it over the phone. "Carlos…they're going to pull the plug."

Carlos was confused for a moment, and he blinked, trying to think what she could possibly mean. Then, he got it. He just didn't know if he could believe it. "What do you mean?" was all he could muster.

"I talked to Grandpa about it, you know I've been talking to him about it. To put daddy out of his suffering, you know? He's never going to wake up. Grandpa talked to Grandma and they agreed. It's what's best."

Carlos was kind of speechless. He'd never _met _his father, besides when he was two, but he'd seen him a bunch of times. He knew in his heart that he'd never wake up from the coma, but the man was alive, so he'd always had the hope that maybe he might get the chance. But now…he had no more hope for that. He didn't know why it upset him so much. He never had a father figure in his life growing up and it's not like anything would change. He just didn't understand.

"Are you okay?" Sylvia asked after a few awkward silent moments.

"…are _you_?"

Sylvia didn't even know she was crying. Carlos's head was in his hands, but he'd turned it to look at her, his elbows still on his knees. She nodded as Carlos wiped a few tears off her face. "I'm okay. Because I'll always have you, my favorite boy."

Carlos smiled. That was something his mother said to him often, way before he had any brothers, and it still had never changed, even though he had three now. He was still her favorite boy. "I just don't know what to think. I wish I could have met him."

She nodded. "He loved you," she said, "Very, very, very much. You came when we were still teenagers. We didn't think we'd be ready for you, you know? I didn't think _he'd_ be ready for you. But the second he saw you…you were all he talked about, Carlos. You were literally his pride and joy. Everything he did, he did for you. He was dedicated to you, he talked about you like you were his God. He talked about teaching you baseball, and riding bikes, and playing basketball with you. He _wanted_ you, and he _wanted_ to watch you grow up and be apart of that. I'm sorry you had to grow up without him."

"What if he _did_ wake up?" Carlos couldn't help but wonder.

"If he woke up today…he wouldn't even remember his own name."

Carlos didn't want to cry, so he didn't. he held it in, and sucked it up, because he was not, nor would he ever be weak, and cry over the things he couldn't change. The things he already knew. Except, he didn't know that his father spoke so highly of him, even when he was just an infant, and a toddler. He didn't know how badly his father wanted to be apart of his life. And he'd never gotten the chance. And he only lived twenty years before he became a vegetable. He only had two years of Carlos.

"He'd be so proud of you, Carlos. He always was."

Carlos nodded. He was slightly startled when the back door opened and there stood Chris. "Sorry, guys," he said, clearly meaning that their time was up.

Carlos nodded, understandingly, and stood up, helping his mother up and leading her behind Chris into the house. Chris, being the most lenient staff worker, allowed Carlos to walk his mother out her car and strap in the boys, who's booster seats and car seats stuffed the back seat. They gave one more hug. "It's happening Wednesday. I'll call you, okay?"

Carlos nodded and hugged her back when she wrapped her arms around him. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

><p>Note: This didn't really go how I wanted it to. Hopefully you liked it anyway. I'm kind of in a dreadfully miserable mood lately and I don't know how fast I'll get out of it. Or if I'll make it out of it….thanks for reading.<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Thought: Guys! I got my first tattoo. Behind my right ear. And, I went to Chuck E. Cheese the other day. But, I just went and played soccer aka 'fooootball' with my hot Macedonian co-workers (I call them that to their face, don't worry haha). They said I did good, even though I sucked, really badly. And, I'm wearing one of their clothes. So, I'm feeling really, really excellent.

* * *

><p>James nudged Carlos for the umpteenth time that day. "What are you thinking about?"<p>

"Being shot."

"Why?"

"How many people are shot a year?"

"I don't know."

"Probably about one hundred and seventy thousand, roughly, just in America," Logan piped. "Why do you think about that so much? You're not getting shot any time soon, guarantee you."

"I just…I don't know. I was already shot once, my dad was shot. Is it like, genetic? Are my kids getting shot, too?"

Logan sighed, as if annoyed by Carlos's illogical curiosity, whereas Carlos was confused, honestly and innocently concerned about this being possible. Logan said, "You said it yourself, Carlos. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. If you teach your kids to stay away from the wrong place at the wrong time, then they will not get shot."

"But I can't raise my kids right because I'm a screw up."

"We're all screw ups. That's why we're here," Logan pointed out. "You're not going to be screwed up anymore once you leave. Or, at least, you'll think differently, in a way that should help society."

"Hey," James said, "I'm not a screw up."

"No, but your parents didn't love you enough to stick around. At least my mom stayed."

"Excuse me? She may have stayed but she certainly didn't love you! What kind of mother locks their own child in a closet with a television playing horror movies? Certainly not a good one!"

Logan looked highly unamused, and James looked furious. Carlos blinked, not really sure what was going on. Had he just learned one of Logan's secrets, without being told by Logan himself? Carlos was pretty sure that was illegal, remembering what James had said, and the way he said it.

Logan looked at Carlos and blinked, then looked back at James. "You're a dick, you know that?" Logan said.

"I'd rather be a dick than a bitch."

Carlos ran to get Kendall when Logan threw the punch. Hen ever would have suspected _this_; he figured there'd be fights, and there were. Kane and Lyle didn't exactly get along and fought often, and Lyle and Corey also fought often. Yet, Lyle and Corey were best friends.

Kendall was in the kitchen, after asking permission to get a drink. One staff member was in the living room with Corey and Lyle who had been yelling at each other, one was having a private talk with Kane about his grades, and the third, along with Jared, was no where in sight. The commotion in the other room was going oddly unnoticed; usually the staff was excellent.

"Kendall!" Carlos said. He wanted to be careful about his wording, knowing well enough by now that Kendall wouldn't let anyone get away with hitting Logan. "Logan hit James and now they're fighting!"

Kendall booked it to their room, with Carlos on his tail of course. James had Logan pinned, which wasn't unpredictable. James was a fair fight for Kendall. He could annihilate Logan if desired. But James wasn't hitting him. It was Logan who was freaking out, and James was just saying, "Logan, stop!"

But Logan broke free and punched him in the face, so James grabbed him down again and started dangling a lougie right in Logan's face, grossing him out, making him scream and shout.

Kendall panicked, stepped in, and punched James, and the two of them went _really _at it. Kendall didn't ever know if he could take James, but he never questioned himself while he was fighting him. That'd just be a distraction.

"Jesus Christ!" Carlos shouted in aggravation. That wasn't how this was supposed to go. He ran into the hallway, and went into the living room. "Kendall and James _are fighting!_" He screamed, gaining the attention of the staff members on, Chelsea and Brad.

They both jumped up and ran into the boys' shared room, Carlos, Lyle, Kane, and Corey all following, trying to see the action. Carlos took front row seat on James's bed; the other boys joining. There were only three girls on staff, and Carrie was the biggest and toughest. She was tougher than all the men, even. Chelsea wasn't very large, but she was beefy and extremely strong. Maggie was the eldest of them all, and she was in her sixties. She was the sweetest.

Kendall and James were _having at it._ James appeared to not be trying as hard as he could; he was definitely holding back, and Carlos could tell. Logan could tell. Logan wasn't in his right state of mind at the point of the brawl. He was more confused than ever, hell, he wasn't even sure what was going on and _why_ they were fighting.

But he knew it concerned him.

Because it always concerns him.

Chelsea grabbed Kendall, and tried her best to hold him back. Brad held James back, struggling, too. James was one tough cookie. He'd spent most of his life literally fighting for money to get food and clothes. Just because his parents weren't around didn't mean he was going to dress like a scrub.

"I didn't even hit him!" James screamed at Kendall. His adrenaline was pumping, but he didn't want to fight with Kendall. He didn't want to fight with anyone.

"I didn't ask that!" Kendall shot.

"You didn't ask ANYTHING! You just assumed I hit him!"

"I didn't -" he calmed his voice a bit, and Carlos thought for sure Kendall had some genuine excuse. He thought he was going to say something like, "Logan doesn't freak out like that for nothing!" or some excuse involving the aforementioned. Instead, he popped out, "I didn't know what I was thinking."

"Maybe you weren't," James assumed. "I hate how you do that. I know he's your little pet or whatever, your boyfriend, but that don't mean he has to be a dick all the damn time. You're a creep, Logan!" James shot at him; he was still on the floor. "I friggin love ya, so I wish you wouldn't act like an asshole. You guys are…the only family I have. We're the only family we all have right now. Can't you just be nice to me?"

James was staring at all of his housemates and was met with silence.

James looked at Logan. "Why did you have to bring that up?"

"Okay, I think that's enough. James, you need to take a walk with Brad. Kendall, when Vinny returns, you need to talk with him. Logan, you're going to see Rocque."

"No!" James said. "I don't want to talk to any of you! Carlos - I want to talk to Carlos."

Chelsea shook her head. "That's completely implausible - it's not going to happen!"

Brad shot her a look. "Maybe it should happen," he said. "Think about it. -"

"Brad," she breathed, "You can't be serious."

Brad looked at Carlos. "Are you up for it? Do you _want_ to talk to James?"

Carlos, however, was looking at James. "…always." was all he said.

"Back porch." Brad flicked the light on and kept his eye on the two of them; their backs facing away from him, but he knew they were talking. And he was proud of this, even though it went completely against all the rules. Twelve years of experience taught him that the bonds with the room mates always help. Because troubled kids can relate to other troubled kids.

James and Carlos sat alone on the back porch. It was the first time they'd ever been alone, and Carlos was enjoying it. Despite the silence. Neither knew what to say; James wasn't sure what they were supposed to talk about. The fight? If that was the case, he was about to open his mouth and ask if he _really_ did something wrong? Carlos noticed quickly the big bruise around James's eye.

But Carlos beat him to the first word with a sigh, "My dad's going to die on Wednesday. It's disgusting that I can _know_ that, you know? I always thought he'd just stay the way he is; I'd see him in the hospital, he'd never change, but he'd still be alive. They say he won't even remember any of us if he wakes up. I kind of wish he would. He's my dad, you know? It'd be nice to meet him, even if he doesn't know anything."

James wasn't sure how to respond at first. That wasn't at all what he was expecting. He could sympathize, but he knew that's not what Carlos wanted. So, instead, he said, "My dad was the first to leave. I mean, they paid the rent, but slept home maybe one night out of a whole month. I know it's not really like, dying. But, I mean, we both grew up without dads."

"But I have a mom."

"But I didn't get shot."

"But, my mom bought me food."

"But, my mom wasn't a prostitute."

"But my mom loves me. She only did it because she had to feed me. She tried."

"But I was doing okay. I dressed well and ate."

"But at the wrong costs, swe-." He stopped himself. He wasn't sure that calling James a pet name like 'sweetheart' was appropriate.

"Yeah, I suppose. I love being here, you know? Like, I have a family here. I'm dreading the day where I have to see this family split up. I know it's not ideal, and that we shouldn't _really_ like it here, but I do. Logan's the little brother, Kendall's the older brother. Kane is the crazy uncle, Jared's the crazy cousin, Corey's the one nobody forgets, and Lyle's the one that nobody remembers. And you? You're…my husband."

Carlos blushed. "Is that so?"

"You know what it is."

"…uh huh."

And they started laughing for a moment, and then got serious again. James said, "I didn't want to fight anybody," he said. "Especially Kendall. I look up to Kendall, I don't want to hurt him, you know? He's my brother, you know?"

Carlos nodded. "Yeah. I know. I don't think he's mad. I think he thought about it after you said he didn't think about it. Thinking always helps, that's what I've learned, if anything."

James smiled with a small chuckle. "I'm glad you're here, Carlos. I'm glad I met you. You're my favorite person ever."

Carlos smiled, now, too. "Yeah. You're my favorite person ever, too."

James sighed and looked up at the sky. "I wonder how long Brad will let us stay out here."

"Probably not too much longer. It's almost book and shower time."

"And I would _hate_ to miss that," he said sarcastically.

Carlos laughed. "Right?"

"Well, sometimes, I stare at you, and you don't know it."

"Why?"

"You're cute," he said with a shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Carlos blushed again. "…you know, that's the same reason why sometimes I stare at you. Only you're just…perfect. That doesn't even begin to describe you."

"I know," James concurred, "right?"

Carlos stood up. "We better get back inside. I'm sure Vinny will flip a lid if he comes home and we're out here. He's just like Chelsea."

James, again, had to agree, and he stood up, too. Kendall and Logan were acting as though nothing even happened, so James and Carlos followed that lead; nothing even happened.

Well, _something_ happened.

Carlos knew James thought he was cute.

* * *

><p>Note: Awh. Some Jarlos fluff. I felt like I owed you that after making them fight. I tried to do it well, but...eh. you be the judge. thanks for reading!(:<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

Thought: This is like, the 13th time I've changed my thought, because I do it every time I come back on this chapter. I'm finally gonna post it.

* * *

><p>But not before I tell you about how I went to Six Flags with Europeans. My friggin Macedonian's, guys, they're ridiculous. I love them. One of them is mean, though. He likes to wrestle. And he pushed cups into my face and cut my lip open and it hurt waaah. But, he was scared of the rides and it was soo funny to watch him. The other one loved it, he was up for anything. So cute. OMG so cute. Haha. Okay, for real. Let's post this friggin chapter already!<p>

Carlos was very glum come Wednesday. Not even his meds could cheer him up. James was the only one who knew, and Carlos wanted to keep it that way. It was hard for him, though, he naturally opened his mouth and told everybody everything. He just couldn't keep information to himself.

He knew his mother would be calling when he was out of school, but he wasn't sure if his father would already be dead, or closer to it. He was antsy all day, just thinking that _my dad could be dying right now_ every second. He'd never met his father, but it still bothered him that he'd never get the chance to meet him.

James sat with Carlos alone at lunch. Alone, mainly because Carlos decided not to go to lunch, and James _knew_ that Carlos wouldn't miss lunch if he was vomiting, so something must have been _up_. James remembered that the hospital was pulling the plug on Carlos's father that day, and he knew that whenever Carlos was upset, he sat next to a toilet.

It had only happened once, but Carlos told him that the first time he was ever so upset that he couldn't move, he was next to a toilet. It was odd, but it was a Carlos thing. James went into the boys' bathroom and looked under the doors of the stalls, seeing one pair of shoes in the first, then seeing Carlos curled in a ball next to the toilet of the handicapped stall.

James hesitated, but got down on his knees and crawled under the stall. He crawled over to Carlos and sat, criss-cross applesauce and the floor in front of Carlos, who had his knees up to his chest, and his head in his lap.

"Carlos, are you okay?" James asked.

Carlos shook his head. "I don't know."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Carlos shook his head.

"Do you want to be alone?"

Carlos shook his head again. "No," he said. "Stay with me? Please?"

James ignored his growling stomach and sat with Carlos in silence for a good ten minutes. The door to the bathroom opened a few times, signaling someone entering and leaving. Neither didn't really know what to say, but Carlos was glad James stayed. He was glad he had someone that wouldn't turn their back or walk away. He had James.

James looked at Carlos, who still sat, sitting depressed, in silence. James couldn't take it; the look on Carlos's face broke his heart and he was used to Carlos being the one to sustain him. He wasn't sure if he should say something, but he felt like he had to. "I don't like seeing you like this," James said finally. "I really wish there was something I could do-"

Then, they heard a knock. "Is everything okay in there?"

"GO AWAY!" James shouted, and suddenly, they saw white shoes scurry out of the bathroom, the door creaking behind him. James sighed and quickly apologized to Carlos for his outburst. "I want to see you smile," James said, "_please_?"

"James. My dad might be dead, _right_ now. He might be _dying_ _right now_. How am I supposed to smile?"

"Smile because _you're_ not dying."

Carlos frowned deeper. "No. I would have liked to have met him, James. You met your dad."

"Yeah, and he was a piece of shit loser," James agreed. "He's going to die without any dignity, and without knowing or having any respect for his only kid. _your _dad? How many lives do you think he saved by taking that bullet? He's dying with pride, babe, and he's dying having _loved_ you. Smile because your father loved you, no matter what. Smile because he _and your mom_ did what they had to do to feed you and protect you. Smile because they stuck around. You can't change this, Carlos. You knew that he was goner for a long time, and you knew this was going to happen one day."

"I know, I just _hoped_ that he would wake up. What do I do now, just give up hope?"

"Not entirely. You just, hope for different things."

"Like what?"

"Liiiiike, I dunno, that you'll get visits home, soon? That you'll do well in school? That you'll be a better person once all this is over?"

They sat quietly for a moment before Carlos finally lifted his head up and said, "I don't ever want you to leave my life. James …what about when my year is up! What if I never get to see you again!" Carlos was panicking, clearly, almost to the point of tears.

"Hey, shh, it's okay? What did I say? Carlos, you're like, the only family I have. I need you, in my life, okay? I've only known you a few months, but, Carlos, I swear I feel like I've known you forever. You'll be in my life, _forever_. I feel it. We were supposed to find each other."

Carlos nodded, believing him.

When the bell interrupted their conversation, Carlos stood up. "We can't be late to class. You know what happened the last time the school called M&M's. Lyle wasn't even allowed snack!"

James had to smile a little, he didn't get Carlos to smile, but his mood was certainly slightly better.

Kendall and Logan sat at the lunch table alone. It was really weird for them to be sitting alone because usually, they had Carlos and James, and a bunch of jocks who were friends with Kendall. There was a game that day. Kendall wasn't allowed on the team because he couldn't make weekend practice due to his situation which was required. No exceptions. He was still trying to find a loophole with that.

He wasn't really sure where Carlos and James where, and while his leadership instincts told him to worry, his trust in James told him he was just being nosy and that James had everything under control. He couldn't help but wonder if the two got themselves into trouble.

He looked at Logan, who was looking at him already. "What are you thinking about?" Logan asked.

Kendall said, "Do you think James and Carlos got into trouble?"

Logan shook his head. "No. You know that feeling you get when you think something's wrong? Well, the one I have is saying something's wrong, but nobody that _we_ know is in trouble at this moment."

Kendall nodded, understanding. Even though Logan was weird and his logic was usually always on whim, somehow, the kid was _always_ right. Not once had something Logan said failed him, even if it was just a feeling. Logan had never been wrong before, and Kendall highly doubted he would start now, or ever.

"Do you think Maggie will take us on a walk tonight?"

"That's highly conceivable."

"Do you think I'm going to pass my English test?"

Logan's eyes widened before shifting away from Kendall. "Uh, I don't know about that one."

Kendall chuckled, knowing that he was now inevitably going to fail his English test. He could never get those vocabulary words right anyway. Kendall swallowed hard when the bell ring, and made his way to English, with no hope of passing at all.

When the boys got home from school, they all immediately sat down at the table and pulled their homework out of their bags. As usual, Jared didn't pay attention, and Logan was the first one done. Carlos even looked at him with pleading eyes and asked him to help, and Logan reluctantly agreed. That had been the first time he'd ever agreed to help anyone. He never even helped Kendall, but, then again, Kendall never asked him for help.

Carlos finished before James with Logan's help, and it was only twenty minutes after he was done that Kendall told Jared to hurry up, which got him a warning look from Tim. "Sorry," he quickly apologized, "take your time," and grumbled that last part.

Carlos started clicking his tongue to amuse himself as he twiddled his thumbs. He attempted to pat his head and rub his tummy; then, pat his tummy and rub his head. He tried to make a number six in the air with his finger while rotating his leg clockwise. His foot kept hitting and tapping Kendall's leg. It was the eighth or ninth time when Kendall finally said, "Dude! What are you doing!"

And with that, all eyes were on Carlos, who had only been amusing James and Corey, his finger stopped midair, pointing slightly downward.

"I'm trying to make my foot go clockwise while making a virtual six. It's not working."

"…why would even you try that?" Kendall asked. "What would possibly possess you to just want to do that? Will it change your life if you do it? Will you win some sort of prize?"

Carlos didn't know if Kendall was upset with him. He didn't know if he should feel offended. But, he'd had a worse time earlier that day, and he'd had worser days. "Personal satisfaction," Carlos said with a shrug.

Kendall blinked. "Can you just, do it when you're not sitting across the table from me? If you kick me again, I'll knock you out."

Tim gave him that 'don't threaten your roommates with violence' speech that he'd heard so many times, and he looked at Jared, waiting for the kid to hurry up. He didn't want to sit in the kitchen all day, either. Jared was quickly scribbling down answers and he could feel eyes on him. He wanted to snap, but he wanted to finish and have tv time before they missed the 5 o'clock mark. When he was finally finished and it was television time, Carlos was the first on the floor, directly in front of the tv while the rest of the boys (with the exception of Logan and Kendall) took places on the couches.

Kendall, with Logan in tow, asked Maggie if they could go on a walk. This was a frequent request during television time, and nobody minded so it was allowed. Maggie was the only staff that took them on walks, and they adored that time with her. It happened every time Maggie was on during tv time, usually Kendall showered and Logan sat in his room with that notebook.

They walked around the block for the hour of tv time, talking about their days, talking about their pasts, and talking about their futures.

When they got back and the hour was up, the boys were dispersing throughout the house. Carlos and James stayed in the living room, talking about the "epic" episode of _Who Wants To Be a Millionaire_. That's when the phone rang. Maggie answered it with a, "This is Maggie," and a smile that quickly faded. "Carlos?"

Carlos looked up upon hearing his name. "Phone's for you?"

Carlos stood up, and took the phone from the woman, and put it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Baby…"

"Mom?"

"4:45," she replied.

Carlos knew. His heart sunk because he knew. "Okay."

"Are you okay?"

"…bye, I love you." ….click.

Carlos turned to look at several baffled faces and shifted his eyes quickly before turning his head and heading for his room. He plopped himself onto his bed. Since it was against the right wall, he was forced to face the door, which was on the opposite wall, in the middle of James and Logan's beds. He didn't have the heart to close it on his roommates, which he knew were all making their way into the room.

Sure enough, Kendall strode in first, leading the crew, Logan, James and Maggie. "Is everything okay?"

Carlos looked up at them, smiling. "Yeah. Why would anything be wrong?"

"That was _really_ sketchy, bro." Kendall told him.

Carlos shrugged. "Everything's fine. I just wanted to come in here."

"…why?" that was Logan.

"It's my room?" Carlos responded, in a tone that clearly said, 'duh.'

"Alright, guys," Maggie said, interrupting. "It's time to chill out. Get out your books, Kendall, you're up."

Kendall was always first to shower, which he normally did during television time, with the exceptions of the days he and Logan went for a walk with Maggie.

"Why don't you and Kendall watch tv?" Carlos asked Logan.

Logan, knowing Carlos's curiosity was as innocent as James's, didn't get offended by this, nor did he point out the critical grammatical error with that sentence. "The tv used to scare me," Logan said with a soft tone. "So I don't like to watch it. Kendall doesn't like to watch it _because I_ don't like to watch it."

"So, he gave it up for you?"

"Pretty much."

"Aw, now that's a true bro thing to do. I don't know if I could give up tv."

"Why do you enjoy it so much?" Logan asked.

"It's _so entertaining._! all the shows, and you know, _video games_!"

"I LOVE VIDEO GAMES!" James hollered excitedly, wanting to be apart of this conversation, now. "Dude, -"

Tim did not look pleased when his head popped into the room. "Boys! This is reading time. No hollering during reading time."

Carlos sighed and shook his head, going back to his book. For once, he couldn't _wait_ to go to sleep.

* * *

><p>The following day, Kendall and Logan found themselves in their room alone during television time. They sat on Kendall's bed, leaning against the wall, side by side. This was something that happened more than once a week. They were best friends; they knew each other inside and out. Logan was rambling on softly about another insect he murdered as a child, "I ripped it's legs off, one by one, you know? I couldn't lose him, I just pulled off one, and he tried to run so I plucked another one. Just like pulling little hairs, right? Again, and again, and again, and again. That daddy was down to one leg and still trying to run! I was like dude, you don't have a chance! I grabbed that last one and gave it a tug, and the body was practically scooting. I squished him after that, because, what's he any good without legs? Friggin spider without legs. Jesus Chris."<p>

Kendall was listening, and this was normal. That would be a typical Logan story, in fact, he was pretty sure he'd heard it before. Logan was usually very careful when it came to re-telling stories, so maybe not. Maybe it was a different spider. They were Logan's favorites to torture.

"So, you remember my mom, right?" Kendall asked Logan.

"Certainly. Go on."

"…she's coming to visit, so I was just making sure you remembered. And my sister Katie?"

Logan smiled. "Yes, I remember. I also remember that their lack of visiting is due to the two hour drive. I also remember that she drives a black 2003 Ford Taurus with the license plate of 654-389. I believe she has auburn hair, _brown_ eyes, like Katie, is about 5'8" or so, was wearing black pants and a violet blouse, black flats."

Kendall blinked, again, a typical Logan thing, to remember everything and everyone. "Yeah, that's about right."

"You get your eyes from your dad then, huh?" Logan accused.

Kendall bit his lip and nodded. "…yeah. That'd be the guy, dad, him. What about your dad?"

Logan laughed. "What dad? My mother was a whore, Kendall. She knows about as much as me when it comes to my father."

"That's really, really sad."

Logan nodded. "It's quite pathetic, yes. However, it's just my life. It's what I know, you know?"

Kendall nodded this time. "Yeah. I know."

"Kendall, do you think I'm crazy?"

Kendall turned his head to look at Logan. "Who said that?"

"Oh, no one. I was just wondering what your opinion was."

"My opinion is that I love you, and you are not crazy."

"That wasn't the question. I asked you what your opinion was."

"Actually, you were _wondering_ what my opinion-"

"Don't you dare go smart ass on me, Kendall Knight."

Kendall smirked and his ears turned red for a moment as he was giving into the demand so easily. "My _thought_ is that only you're crazy if you think you're crazy. I don't think you're crazy; I think you've been through some fucked up shit, but, you are the _best_ thing that has ever happened to me and I wouldn't _ever_ think of you as crazy. I love you, Logan, and I mean that."

Logan smiled, loving every time Kendall said that, and believing it every time. "You know, the phase sleep tight originated when mattresses were set upon ropes woven through the bed frame .down, there, you know? To remedy sagging ropes, one would use a bed key to tighten the rope. Interesting, right?"

"Yeah, Loges, that's interesting. I never knew that."

"Kendall, did you ever…did you ever want to just go home?"

Kendall's eyes shifted as he looked forward, then down at Logan. "Sometimes. But then I think if I went home you wouldn't be right next to me when I wake up. I don't know what I'd do without you."

That last statement was one Kendall said quite often to Logan; and it was true. Not only was Logan the reason Kendall was able to control himself, but he was Kendall's inspiration to be better. Logan had had the worst life Kendall could imagine and still, when he woke up, he was looking at Kendall and smiling.

Kendall did everything with Logan; Logan was so smart and easy for him to talk to. He didn't always understand Logan, but he always agreed. He trusted that Logan knew what he was talking about, and in no matter what situation, Logan would be the mastermind. Kendall might draw the outline, or just be on action, but Logan pieced everything together with that big friggin brain of his.

"What a bout you?" Kendall asked. "You ever just want to go home?"

Logan hesitated. For a minute, Kendall thought he wasn't going to respond, but then he remembered that Logan would _always_ respond to him. "No," he said with a small sigh after two minutes and change. "I don't ever want to go home. I never miss it. It's shit compared to this."

Kendall's ears reddened, but Logan didn't notice. "It's almost December," Logan said, talking before Kendall had the chance to. "are you ready?"

Kendall nodded. "Yep. I think James has a thing for Carlos. Are _you_ ready?"

Logan smirked. "Indeed."

* * *

><p>Note: A Mcdonald's Straw will hold 7.7 ml, just over one and a half teaspoons of whatever you are drinking. Interesting, right? Haha. Thanks for reading. (:<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

Thought: So, sorry my updating has been shit lately. But my Macedonians are leaving much earlier than I had originally thought, and I've been spending a LOT of time with them. I mean, I took them to walmart and didn't get home till 3 am and then woke up at 9 and we went to the fair, and then played some basketball & drank some beer. And I let one of them drive my car.

Anywho. Sorry this is crap.

* * *

><p>Carlos's depressed mood lasted for a few days. It was weird for the guys to see him so nonchalant; it wasn't like Carlos. He still made jokes, but they were just more mean and vulgar, even earning him a time-out from the dinner table on friggin Pearl Harbor Day.<p>

When Carlos came home from school one Thursday, close to Christmas break, Vinny, a staff member, was in his office, waiting for Carlos. This was never good. Carlos swallowed hard and entered, closing the door as instructed behind him. His shorts hung past his knees and his socks poked above his shoe, making his legs look really short.

"Carlos, have a seat," he said, and Carlos did as he was told. "I wanted to talk to you. I got a call from the school today-"

"I didn't do it!" Carlos said.

Vinny laughed. "No. They said you're doing extremely well in school right now. You received a one hundred on your English essay."

Carlos smiled, proud of this. It was the first time in his life he'd ever scored a 100 on anything, and he could say it was because of Logan, who dubbed himself Carlos' tutor the first time he saw a 0. He had never seen a 0, but at the time, to Carlos, it wasn't exactly an uncommon thing. "No way," he said, "that's awesome."

"To reward you for this, um, we're going to allow you to go home with your mother on Friday, and return Saturday evening."

"No way, visits home! Really! I've been waiting _so long_ for this day! I'm so excited! Does my mom know? Can I go call her real quick, I swear, I won't even use the phone after dinner -"

Vinny gave Carlos his cell phone and then stepped outside the room while he talked to his mom excitedly, and entered a few moments later, smiling. "I'm sorry you had to miss your father's funeral," Vinny said seriously.

Carlos's smile faded in an instant, and he immediately remembered why Vinny was kind of low in his favorite staff member list. "Well, me too, but we can't change that now. And I don't like to talk about things we can't change."

Vinny smiled and gave a soft nod.

"Can I go? I've got to talk to James."

Vinny nodded and Carlos left for his mission, finding James, which was easier than he had originally suspected. The kid was right in the living room sitting on the couch, looking at himself in a handheld mirror smiling into it, clearly pleased with what he saw.

Carlos sat across from him, smiling widely, waiting for him to be noticed. "Ahem."

James looked immediately, smiling wider upon seeing Carlos and his _finally_ happy face. "Hey, buddy. What's up?"

"I get to go home this weekend," Carlos said, trying to keep his voice calm and low and at a normal tone. "My mom's picking me up on Friday afternoon and dropping me off Saturday night. Cool, right?"

James was honest and genuine when he said, "I'm really happy for you." James wanted happiness for Carlos, and nothing more. **You always know what person is yours for forever when you see them, and James knew that that was Carlos.** He also knew that just because Carlos was _his_ person, doesn't necessarily mean he was _Carlos's_ person.

When the night came that Carlos was allowed home, he couldn't have been happier. He wanted nothing more than to go home, eat all day and consume his life of television and internet. He didn't have time for anything else. In fact, he didn't even want his friends to know he was home.

Carlos wasn't embarrassed about where he was; he enjoyed Mother Master's, and although it sucked at times, and it was like school, or a job, it was _helping_. He was so much better now, and he liked it. He had _true_ friends, and although Logan was strange and creepy smart, and Kendall was controlling and kind of bossy, and James spent too much time in the bathroom and talked way more than a normal person, he liked them. Ahem, loved them.

James was happy that Carlos was happy, but he couldn't help but feel dreadfully miserable. Carlos had been there for about two or so months and he pretty much hadn't left James's side. Carlos had finally had a buddy; Kane and Jared were buddies, Lyle and Corey were buddies, Kendall and Logan were attached at the hip and now that Carlos was here, and Carlos _understood_ him, he couldn't have been happier. He knew it'd only be one night, but it still bummed him out.

Carlos did exactly as planned; when he got home, his mother made lasagna as he watched a movie with his brothers, and then, they watched another move while they _ate_ lasagna, and then Carlos had pudding, and ice-cream and even James's favorite orange crackers, before playing his video game and eating a bag of chips, two sandwiches and cookies.

He stayed up till three a.m., and slept till noon, went out for lunch and bowling with his mother and brothers. Then, they watched more television till it was time to take him back.

And that, my friend, was the best vacation Carlos had ever had.

* * *

><p>One thing was for sure, <strong>Kendall and Logan knew they were each other's person<strong>. They just fit each other, they worked, they clicked. They knew _exactly_ what the other needed to hear, they knew exactly what the other wanted to do. They were something like time, or gravity. They just _were_, and they always kept going. It was weird for either of them to think of a time before they knew each other.

But that didn't mean they didn't have a past that haunted them like clockwork. December was the month Logan was removed from his house, shortly after his thirteenth birthday, and shortly before Christmas.

December was never a good month. Once, his mother wasn't home yet, and the crack heads were fucking for warmth in their hole. Logan sat facing away from them, his knees up to his chest and a book in his knees, his eyes but two inches from the page. He'd try anything to escape what he was living in. sometimes, he'd make up his own world, and it's own people. He'd stay there for hours and hours, but when he'd come back, it'd still be the same.

He wasn't surprised when his mother walked in the door looking tired and aggravated. His eyes wandered up as she glanced at the crack heads and then made a 'gagging' gesture secretly so only Logan could see. Then she smiled and winked, and went into the kitchen of their home which was directly and openly next to the living room.

"Are you hungry, baby?" she asked Logan.

Logan nodded, his eyes never having left the sight of her.

"I can make you some pancakes if you want?"

Logan smiled and nodded, again.

"Do you want to help?"

Logan jumped up and stood beside his mother as she smiled back at him and got the bowl out, and they had a good time making pancakes. This happened more often than you'd think. Joanna loved Logan, she did. He was really the only boy she ever had that didn't leave her…well, willingly of course.

She had problems, you know? She just thought so _oddly_ of others and she just didn't understand any other way to live her life. What she was doing was all she knew, sometimes she panicked, and she just didn't think things through. She knew her crack habit was getting ridiculous, and she knew that harboring two crack heads in her home was completely illegal. But unlike Logan, it was a _lot_ harder for her to escape into her dream world. She had to escape too and that was all she knew.

So, after her lines were finished, she starting drinking, and Logan was still eating pancakes at the table she had just done lines on, right in front of him. As she saw it, it was _her_ kitchen, and it wasn't like Logan hadn't seen her do this before. He was well aware of what was going on. He was, after all, a genius.

She did a few shots and had a glass, and laid on the couch in front of the television, requesting that Logan "Watch this movie with me, okay? From start to finish." And it was the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. She liked gory movies. She just wanted something she could connect with Logan. She figured he watch them more, he'd become less scared after a while. The last thing Joanna said to her son _was_, "I love you," before she fell asleep, contradicting some of her actions that evening.

The crack heads presumed their duties to make sure he watched the whole movie once his mother conked out, but that didn't go as planned. There was a loud knock on the door. Nobody moved, except for when Logan jumped, scared out of his wits. The crack heads looked towards the door and made the "shush" gesture at him, then gave a nod towards the television. Logan then turned his attention towards the television.

The knock continued two or three more times, clicking of the knob unmistakable as someone struggled to get inside. It wasn't like it was hard to knock down, that flimsy door, so, the cops really shouldn't get any strength credits for that.

The door smashed into the cupboard, and it didn't even jolt Joanna in her slumber. Logan looked, he couldn't help it. The crack heads jumped up, not knowing how to get out; the cops were in the door way. They were trapped, no way out. They were putting up a fight, though, one of the two cops had to call for immediate back up, and the other had to pull out his gun and threaten to shoot one of them.

They left Joanna for the time being, having _much _other problems to deal with then, because not only were they attempting to fight two very unwilling, stubborn _crack heads_, there was a child involved. Logan, the boy who the teacher was talking about, the boy that came to school with bruises, and nervousness, and paranoia worse than any student she'd ever encountered.

He was very calm and polite and poised when he spoke to the police officers. They had never seen anybody like this, a child, who spoke like an adult, who was articulate like an adult, who knew exactly what he was supposed to say and how he was supposed to say it. Logan never did lie, he just didn't _tell_. You can't honestly answer questions if you're not directly asked.

But, now, he was being asked. "How long have those two men been living in your home with you?"

"Seven years, two months and sixteen days. That's a total of 2634 days, in case you were wondering."

Stunned, the cop asked, "That woman asleep on the couch, is that your mother?"

"Yes, sir."

"Has she been doing drugs this evening?"

"…yes sir," he said, slightly hesitatively, and ordered for an ambulance.

"Does she hit you?"

Logan blinked, wondering if this was a serious question. "Sir, my mother says all boys get hit when they are bad."

And then the cop knew, and that's when Logan's life changed completely and forever, but at least the last thing he head his mother say was something decent.

But that was why Logan hated December. It was the month his life changed. And of course, he'd had _bad_ memories from December's, and that was the problem. He usually had nightmares, he usually thought about it all the time. He couldn't help it, there were some things you just couldn't medicate out of someone.

* * *

><p>Note: it's 1 am and I'm sick &amp; tired. please tell me it's better than nothing? thanks for reading<p> 


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